


You Are Not On Your Own

by Tasha_amazing



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: AU: JD is alive, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Murder, Next Generation, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2020-11-26 05:51:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 70,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20925215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasha_amazing/pseuds/Tasha_amazing
Summary: AU: JD is aliveVeronica raised a child. And died."Where have you been when the broken Veronica run from here? What did you do instead of letting her know about you? What did you do when she had a daughter? What was you thinking while she was growing away from you?And what was he doing now when Veronica was gone and Eleanor was left alone?"





	1. you are alone

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [You Are Not On Your Own](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/525251) by Таша Гри. 

> Hey! It's me again. 
> 
> This work i love from all my heart, and a lot of feedback from Russian community make me think that sharing with you will be the good idea.
> 
> Enjoy and be careful.

"Eleanor?"

She sighed when she heard that name. And, until she had to open her eyes, the girl was not afraid, but confused - the voice that she heard through the ringing in her ears was a stranger. Young, quiet, melodic. Due to the natural way curiosity arose, Nora opened her eyes and immediately understood why she had ringing in her ears and why she didn't feel anything. Immediately feelings and echoes of pain surged over her.

Because of the bright sunlight smoothing through the blinds, her head ached. Glance, barely able to focus, noticed unknown devices with indicators flickering on the screens. Vital signs, she remembered from all the movies and TV shows where the hospital was shown. Then tinnitus gave way to a nasty squeak. Her pulse. Uneven. Pounding.

"Please, don't worry. Don't panic," the approaching nurse told her insinuatingly. And she was really very young. “You are in the hospital. Nothing threatens your life. My name is Gwen. Do you remember your name?"

“Eleanor...” she squinted, turning her head to the other side. “...Charity Sawyer. Why am I here?"

"You had a car accident. But now you are almost fine. You just have a concussion and a moderate injuries."

_"This is our way!" She grinned when she heard mom's peppy exclamation. "Turn up the volume!"_

_The girl reached for the receiver, turned the volume up. The voice of a pop singer of the nineties filled the salon, drowned into their laugh. Veronica began to nod to the beat. Nora looked at the road again with a smile. Sherwood was close. A sense of trepidation overcame her more and more._

They went to Sherwood. They... had an accident?

"What about my mother?" immediately asked Nora.

One small pause hanging in the air finally made her feel belated fear. Nora frowned, but a nurse was found right there.

“She's fine too. See you soon.” Gwen smiled and even nodded, trying very hard to convince her.

_Lie_.

"Where is my mother?" The girl asked again, more seriously.

Her hoarse voice mixed with a bewildered squeak of devices. She tried to get up without taking her eyes off the nurse. She immediately rushed to meet.

“No, you better lie down!” She insisted. "I have to call a doctor. Don't worry. I'll be in one minute, Dr. Stacy will answer all your questions."

Having laid the patient back to bed, the young nurse almost jumped out of the ward. Nora looked around herself - her bed, sensors on her body, wires, hospital clothes. From this uneven squeak, her skull simply cracked! With confidence, the girl took the cardio sensors off her hands, then lowered her legs to the cold floor. The chamber was empty. It seems that it was an early morning on the street - the sun managed to rise even higher during short conversation. Still frowning, Nora stood up to her full height, immediately squinting due to pain in her leg. She looked down. The left leg was tightly wrapped with an elastic bandage starting at the ankle and ending above the knee. In the joint there was weakly given cutting pain. Trying to take a step or two, Nora realized that she could walk, but she was very lame. She could put up with pain. She just want to find mom.

_“Do you think there will be many guests?” She asked her mother, fingering the cassettes for the player._

_“I'm sure Heather invited almost the whole city.” Mom replied with a gentle mockery. “But not everyone will come, I think.”_

_The vacation season has already been over a month since, so Nora nodded with understanding. Heather McNamara had quite a few friends, but not everyone was close enough to come from another state for her, as they, Sawyers, did. In general, the aunt, judging by mother’s stories, had just a few real friends._

Nora looked out of the room, experiencing a terrible headache. On the right was the corridor to the reception. There flashed people. Some sleeping man was sitting by the next room. A hospital gown was thrown over his shoulders, and a long black trench coat hung on a hanger nearby. If she had feel better, Nora would have looked closely, because a strange curiosity attracted her to this man, but now she quickly forgot about this detail. Without particularly looking at the face of the sleeping visitor, she went to the tablet attached to the wall at the end of the corridor. Her last name was on the list of patients in the next ten wards, but her mother wasn't here. Migraine hit the temples with renewed force.

_The rain intensified. Nora loved rains, she loved thunderstorms. There was such a charming power in uncontrollable nature. Wild and deadly, madly. Nora grinned at the thought of it. She got the same unflattering compliments from the tactless old teachers who taught her in middle school. “What are you like?” They asked, perplexed, because her mother, Veronica Sawyer, left a different impression after herself. She was a confident and intelligent woman, but not hot-tempered, no. “Ask my dad.” Nora answered, grinning caustically. Once a freak, having knocked up her mother, left. He didn't have time to find out about the child, this Nora was able to cunningly pry out from her mother, who, damn it, continued to love him. The question is, for what fucking merits? Of course, mom didn’t tell her anything, but Nora was not blind and not stupid._

_Drops quickly flowed down the glass. Nora traced a finger after one of them. The song has long been replaced, now it was Johnny Cash, singing with a guitar about a very old and tired man. Mom sighed. Nora turned to her._

_"Tired?" She asked. “Maybe we should stop at some parking lot?”_

_“What's the point, it’s already about twenty minutes to Sherwood.” Veronica didn't take her tired eyes from the road._

_The closer they came, the more serious mom became. She didn't want to come to the city and, beside, bring her daughter with her, but the really ill Aunt Heather asked for it, because maybe it was her last birthday. Nora sighed too. She, again, understood her mother’s worrying. Veronica Sawyer left this city many years ago for a reason, she ran away from all the horrors she managed to see at a young age and didn't forget by the time she returned. In addition, none of her youth friends knew about her daughter's existence. And mom was very worried about this, but Nora couldn't fully understand why._

Pain resumed. Nora moaned through gritted teeth and closed her eyes. She began to feel sick, her memories broke off and flashed with vivid pictures, creating complete confusion. This made it even more painful. And the heart also beat like a drum. 

They were near the city, how did they manage to get into an accident? Where is mom? Maybe in traumatology? For god sake, in intensive care? 

Dizzy, Nora got to another room, and immediately realized that she was in the right place. Here, personal belongings of patients from all floors were stored. And, again, on the shelves where the property of patients with a last name beginning with "S" was stored, there was only one Sawyer - Eleanor. The hospital was supposed to have the second such room. It was had to be. Most likely, they were in Sherwood, and there was a very small building. Clinic, hospital and ward in one, and everything is equally cramped, as might be supposed. But mom was supposed to be here. Maybe in another wing...

_"God, what a storm..."_

_High beam helped badly. Then there was a beep. Something big suddenly appeared on the side, on mother’s side. Shaked. Hit. Spin._

Nora realized that she was sitting on the floor, clinging to her sweater, riddled with glass in several places. Her hands and face were in abrasions. No. That was a nightmare. That was a dream.

Whispering pleading to her mother, Nora put on this damn sweater, and then the rumpled blue skirt. On the way back, she tied shaggy hair with a red scrunchy, which she found in a box of unidentified things at the door.

Someone ran in the hallway outside the door. Damn, she escaped from the ward. Dr. Stacy must have cursed this poor Gwen for all her sins. But they knew something about mom, and they wanted to hide it. So something very serious happened. In the depths of her cynical soul, Nora knew the answer, but she didn't want to admit to the last.

She left the room through another door for staff, and from there through the room for the nurse through a small corridor she went into the treatment room, which was directly opposite the reception. In the treatment room, Nora thoughtful threw a white gown over her shoulders so that less attention was paid to her clothes, although the whole look she probably had was shabby.

"Ma'am?" She went to the woman at the counter. “I came to visit my aunt. Could you tell me which ward she is in?”

“Last name and first name.” The tired old woman responded in a bored tone, lazily snapping a computer mouse.

“Sawyer Veronica.” Nora put her hands on the counter.

She didn't notice how her bruising fingers squeezed the wooden corner of the counter to whitening. The breath was stolen. A new attack of migraine made her cringe.

"In a hospital, not found. I can check by intensive care, but visitors are not allowed to enter there.” The woman adjusted her glasses on her nose, looking at her.

“Please check.” Nora said thinly.

No. No Please.

A couple of quick clicks. Very slow typing on the keyboard. The woman slightly tapped the thick monitor on the side panel.

"Damned thing. Wait another minute."

Nora nodded. She was ready to wait at least eternity, if only her mother was on the list of patients. Looking down, the girl began to count seconds. At eleventh, the woman gave a voice.

“And she is not on the ICU list.” Condolence was heard in her voice. “But there could be a mistake. Or they haven’t managed to put it in the database yet, this often happens..."

“Try looking for Sawyer Eleanor in the hospital.” She clenched her jaw.

Another ten seconds of intense silence.

"There is one. Lies in the eighth ward, it's right down the hall and... Wait."

The woman straightened her glasses again, peering into her face, but Nora couldn't hear her and didn't see her. She was listed on admission. But mom was not. This must be a very ridiculous mistake, a bad coincidence... But, even if mom wasn't included in the lists, her things should have been here.

“Stand here, young lady!” She heard from behind.

Her lips didn’t move, the words couldn’t form a coherent gratitude, so the girl just left. The black trench coat was still hanging on the hanger, but the man himself was no longer in the hallway next to the room. After hesitating for a couple of seconds, Nora took a black men's trench coat and left a gown instead. May the man forgive her, but she needed to remain invisible, and with such clothes she wouldn’t succeed.

It was as they had stuck her head into the oven and beat her with a sledgehammer. Nausea rolled back to her throat.

Her legs were tangled up, because of limp, she was about to crash from the emergency ladder. Nora left the building as quickly as she could.

* * *

“Dean.” Martha adjusted her thick-rimmed glasses, looking at him with caution.

He was already too sickened to notice their dumbfounded face, as if they had seen a ghost. But that was the easiest one. What he truly hated was their disapproving glance, when they realized that he had been alive all this time, but hadn’t found Veronica with the baby.

“Dunnstock.” He answered without a hint of politeness. He didn't miss them all.

So he wanted to send her and all of them fuck yourselves, along with their fucking hatred and, especially, with their condolences. As if it could help.

“The girl, Eleanor, escaped.” Martha was still standing above him.

“I know.” JD said displeasedly.

“So you're not even trying to search?” Now without any caution and sympathy, she asked in a displeased tone. "While you are sitting here and feeling sorry for yourself..."

He jumped to his feet, wanting to push this fat crybaby into the wall so that it shut up, finally. Martha was afraid, her face was red with tears, but she didn't pulling away from him. She was angry. In fact, JD never remembered that coward Dunnstock was angry at least once.

“Veronica isn't here.” She breathed. “Do you think it's only you who suffer? I'm also didn't see her for eighteen years, I don't want to say goodbye to her like that, but there is nothing to be done. I don’t know if you knew about the girl, but I only found out now, and, nevertheless, I understand that she, your daughter, needs someone right now! Since you want to take her into custody, what the hell are you acting like you don't give a damn about her?"

Still, he pushed her. With a loud gasp, Martha stumbled back against the wall, nearly falling off her feet. JD didn’t even know why he was more angry: because she aloud said that Veronica was no more, or because she dared to suggest that he didn't care about his daughter.

“Shut your mouth and get out.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“I only say what I see.” Martha breathed. “So don't you dare rush at me. You didn't let Heather and me become her guardians only three hours ago, and now when she is alone in the city, sitting somewhere in shock, wounded, everyone but you is looking for her! You sit here and keep on mourning. Veronica would..."

JD growled.

“What are you doing here when the daughter of the woman you mourn over needs you?” Martha repeated in a trembling voice.

He knew what else Dunstock wanted to say. Where have you been when the broken Veronica run from here? What did you do instead of letting her know about you? What did you do when she had a daughter? What was you thinking while she was growing away from you? And what was he doing now when Veronica was gone and Eleanor was left alone?

He was hiding, as always. And his daughter, who became an orphan, ran away.

As if sober, JD glanced at Martha. She was right, but still, fuck her.

“So, did you manage to find her?” He asked.

"Not yet."

No. Of course they not. How did they know where to look for her. No one knew Eleanor, because Veronica didn’t tell anyone about her, and didn’t come to Sherwood ever after eighty-nine, she even buried her parents in another state, as he heard. Nobody knew what was in her daughter’s mind, and now she was completely in shock, so she could go anywhere.

"I'll go by car."

Fortunately, the keys were not in a trench coat, but in a jeans pocket.

He could find her. Should have tried. He should have done so many years ago.


	2. you are powerless

** _The Sherwood Chronicles of September 30, 2007._ **

_TRAGEDY ACROSS TOWN_

_On September 29, at the entrance to the city, occurred a road accident that led to the death of a thirty-five-year-old woman. According to preliminary data, another car crashed into her car, the accident driver lost control due to slippery roads. In the car of the deceased was also a passenger - a young girl who now is under medical supervision in a city hospital. By now nothing is know about her condition. The driver, who was responsible for the accident, left the scene of the crime, his car is being intensely sought after by the police. As the case unfolds, new notes will appear in the Sherwood Chronicles, both in the newspaper and on the radio. And soon on the TV channel..._

Nora dropped the newspaper on her lap and covered her face with her hands. The worst thing was not to find out from the newspaper, which had to be pulled out of the nearest garbage bin, and not even that at the moment she had forgotten her name due to a surging headache. The most unpleasant, most astounding fact was how short and cold the article was written. Of course, this is just a morning report, the journalists really don’t know anything, but goosebumps still walked on the back from such a phrase as "an accident that led to the death of a thirty-five-year-old woman."

Not just an accident, but a disaster. The catastrophe of her whole life. And this thirty-five-year-old woman was her mother. Mom, who just yesterday with a laugh asked to increase the volume of the song. Who just yesterday dropped a hot dog in a clean driver's seat and was so killed because of this.

Nora couldn’t believe it. She didn’t believe that this accident happened to them, that this dead woman was Veronica Sawyer. She couldn’t leave her, just couldn’t... It was some kind of mistake.

Having risen to her feet again, Nora walked away from the bus stop, wiping the tears that poured nonstop from her eyes. She was so scared, so hurt. It was necessary to go somewhere. But she didn’t know this city, didn’t know these people. Who could help her? She and mom had no one, grandfather and grandmother died five years ago, and now...

A phone vibrated in the upper pocket of stranger’s coat. This scared her even more. She forgot to think about the fact that other people's things could remain in her pockets. A gust of cold wind forced Nora to wrap herself more tightly in stranger's coat, and brought her to life a little. Totally bewildered, the girl did the only thing that only managed to come to mind: she took out an annoying mobile device and looked at the screen. The number was unknown, no name was displayed instead. Obviously, the owner of the coat began to look for her. Turning off the phone, Nora sighed and looked around. The cool morning sun began to hide behind the clouds again, making it colder outside. Has Sherwood always been so wet and dank? From here it was possible to leave forever, if only because of this.

The weight in pockets was felt not only because of the phone. Fumbling around the chest compartments, Nora found another wallet, which contained two worn credit cards, a couple of hundred bucks and a business card with a jammed corner. According to this, the company ‘DeanExplosion’ was located at... In general, at an address that Nora wasn’t familiar with, like any other in this city.

Then another clear thought appeared in the mess that her brains now consisted. Life, of course, was fucked up, and most likely would have ended very soon, because Nora had no idea what would happen to her now. Before it all ended, she should have returned the property of that person to him. It would be wrong if this unfortunate man, who already had one of his relatives in the hospital, lost his phone and wallet. Maybe this is his last money.

_No offense, mister, but you have to splurge on a taxi._

“Could you deliver me to this address?” She asked.

The taxi driver answered something to her, but due to a headache attack, which she had already managed to get bored, Nora couldn’t hear a word.

“What?” She asked again.

“There is no such address in the city, miss.” The man repeated.

Nora leaned back in the back seat, looking confused at the driver in response. Fortunately, the taxi driver was extremely polite and understanding, so he patiently waited for the girl to come to her senses. But Nora couldn’t get together, it was her only plan, all that she had thought of doing so far. What was left now? Back to the hospital? Where else could she go?

_They drove to Heather McNamara._

“Don't you know where Heather McNamara lives?” Nora asked the driver.

“This name sounds familiar.” He answered thoughtfully. “There are not so many McNamara in Sherwood. Do you need jewelry shop owners?”

Confused again, the girl shrugged. All that she knew about Aunt Heather that she was very persistent, eloquent and... seriously ill.

“I will take you to the address.” The driver suggested by himself. “For forty dollars.”

“Okay.” Nora agreed. “Move please.”

The car finally moved forward, silence hung in the passenger compartment, which brought slight relief to the sore head. On the way, Nora tried her best not to think about mom, but, of course, it didn’t work out. There was a lump in her throat, tears beckoned out, but it was all a fear of the unknown and anxiety, not sorrow in any way. She still refused to believe, she stubbornly thought that this was all a big mistake, an evil accident. She would surely find mom, no doubt. If she could find Heather McNamara at first, it would be even easier. Even if she is physically unable to help, there will simply be someone to rely on. At the moment, it was already a lot.

Leaning in the back seat, she felt the expected injection of knee pain. The elastic bandage on the ankle was already slightly covered with splashes of dirty water from damp streets. Lameness created so many problems...

Nora twisted a card with frayed edges between her fingers. The man carried it with him for a long time, often took it in his hands. Maybe he worked for this company. A note under ‘DeanExplosion’ said it was "the most reliable demolition company in Ohio". So it was in this state, but not in this city. Even better. She robbed a newcomer.

“On the spot, young lady.” The taxi driver said.

Outside the window was a very spacious house, visible behind a high wrought-iron fence with a wicket door locked inside. Owners of jewelry, no doubt remained. But it was unlikely that this was the home of Heather. Mom couldn’t have such rich friends. She was just Veronica Sawyer.

“Miss?” The taxi driver has voiced.

“Oh, yes.” Nora woke up, opened her wallet and took out a hundred bucks, handing it to him. While the driver was counting the change, the girl made another difficult decision, in case it was, nevertheless, the wrong Heather. “Can you wait a bit here? I will only give my things and return, I need to go to the city hospital.” She asked timidly.

“This will cost all the same forty bucks.” He answered.

Nodding, Nora got out of the car and, going to the gate, pressed the bell button. For the first time she had to touch such a call, but she saw such - in a series about rich teenagers living in mansions. And mom came across such ones, because she was a good lawyer, worked for wealthy families, and came to their home. Unfortunately, she didn’t take Eleanor with her.

“Who's there?” A voice came from the transmitter, unnoticed by the girl earlier.

Nora, hearing a feminine tone, froze in place, with her hands in the pockets of trench coat. She realized that she didn’t know what to say. Thoughts mixed again, and a lump of tears rising in her throat squeezed her vocal cords, like a steel grip. The woman repeated her question.

“Heather McNamara... lives here?” Nora breathed, unsure of the fact that she was able to hear because of stale rattling.

“Sorry? Heather McNamara?” The woman asked again. “I didn’t hear your question. Why do you need her?”

“The thing is that... I am... Do you know Veronica Sawyer?” Muttered Nora, stepping closer to a brand-new transmitter that looked like a mini-radio.

The pause was so long that it seemed to the girl as if the woman had long been disconnected, angry at this silly slurred question.

“Who you are?” The steel tone that cut the hanging silence unconvinced her of this.

“I am her daughter.” The voice treacherously trembled. Nora shook her head, tried to speak again. “I'm looking for Heather McNamara, my mother’s friend... Sorry...”

“God,” she heard, “come in... um, I... come in, for God's sake...”

An automatic gate swung open in front of her. Nora turned on the taxi driver. Something told her that she wouldn’t have to leave this house so far.

“You can...”

“Yes, I can go, I understand.” This driver was the best taxi driver she saw. “Good luck, miss.”

Nora nodded, not having the strength to wish him the same in return. Then, turning away from the leaving car, she stepped out of the gate and, limping, slowly overcame the distance to the door. Before she could step on the threshold, the front door had already opened.

At the door stood a woman in a honey-colored robe. Her head was wrapped in a colorful shawl like a turban. There was obviously no hair beneath him.

Oh god, of course, mom agreed to go to her. It was definitely the very seriously ill Heather McNamara, under her tear-stained eyes there were huge bags and shadows. She wiped her reddened nose, gasping loudly. When Nora noticed how the woman looked from head to toe, there was no doubt.

“God...”

They stood opposite each other. Nora opened her mouth, about to say at least something, but she could not. The headache, which was even stronger and more piercing, again made her frown, and tears spontaneously burst out of her eyes.

“Oh my Lord, girl, come in!” Two fragile hands laid immediately on the shoulders.

And, of course, Nora allowed herself to burst into tears for the first time in the morning, because, at last, at least someone was found who was able and willing to console her. Climbing the stairs, they found themselves in a spacious living room, there was a lot of light reflected from various mirror surfaces: a glass table, three mirrors on the floor, a polished marble fireplace, copper bowls and vases, and everything else...

“Your name is Eleanor, right?” Heather McNamara hastily wiping away the tears seemed so lost.

She was all shaking, rushing from side to side, not taking her eyes off her. The girl nodded.

“Is it true?” She asked.

No clarification needed. Immediately frozen in place, the woman turned pale from head to toe. Her face extended, then wrinkled from the flood of tears of grief. And on Nora’s shoulders a great weight fell.

They cried in each other's arms for at least a minute, until both of them became hysterical with nothing to breathe. Nora wanted to destroy everything. She wanted to demolish this house, this damn city, but even more she wanted to die. Right here and right now. Her eyes reddened with pain, her body went limp, staggered. She almost died, she wanted it so much that she didn’t even cry with fear. However, Aunt Heather was seriously scared. Continuing to cry out to Lord, she again swept alongside her, sitting on the couch.

“Girl... Eleanor... I'm so stupid, so evil, it's all because of me... I shouldn't have...”

Her voice interfered with the loud beat of a pulse in temples. Nora was breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling. She only thought that all of this was true, that it wasn’t a dream. This is not a mistake or a coincidence. She was hit on the head with an ax, splitting her skull over and over again, but she couldn’t stop thinking about her mother. There was so much noise in ears, and after it Aunt Heather was shouting something, saying something to someone...

“...Yes, Martha. Please come soon! Tell the doctors that she is here!..”

“No.” Gasped Eleanor. She saw a woman, pale and tearful, turned to her, shaking so hard that she could barely hold the handset in her hands. “No. Just not to the hospital. I want to see her. I want to see mom.”

“Marta, she wants to see Veronica.” McNamara’s voice broke in her friend’s name. She seemed so old, much older than mom. If Nora didn’t know that they were friends of youth, she wouldn’t have guessed. “She doesn't want to go back to the hospital, yes... are you sure?” Heather brought the phone to her. “This is Marta Dunnstock, your mom’s friend. She wants to hear you.”

Nora took the cellphone and put it on her ear. There was so much anxiety and so much seriousness in the female voice heard. Behind it, the same softness and vulnerability that was audible and visible in Aunt Heather could hardly be distinguished.

“Eleanor, are you here?” She asked her very hastily. “My name is Martha, please call me that...”

“My name is Nora.” She answered, trying to get her tone in order. Red spots still floated in her eyes. Squinting, the girl struggled to endure the incredible pain that surrendered from her head throughout her body. “Please... I don’t want any doctors...”

“Alright, Nora.” Martha agreed with ease, softening her tone. “I'll come to you and Heather right now. You have a concussion, right? Please try to calm down. Lie down and don't get up. I understand that everything is bad, everything is very bad, but now you are not alone, you are safe. We’ll take care of you, do anything, whatever you want. Lie down, I will be very soon...”

Nora almost dropped the phone, but McNamara intercepted the phone pretty quickly.

“She lay down, Martha.” She said, a little calmer, but still sobbing. “Yes. Yes, I understood. He is not near you? But he will find out sooner or later...”

Nora didn’t know who the conversation was about, and didn’t want to know. She was shaking, a large tremor hit her muscles, causing her trembling limbs and billowing chest. At least she could breathe now, covering her eyes. She was safe, remind she to herself every second. Everything was bad, yes, but she was safe now.

Aunt Heather came up after a while, giving her a glass of water. After drinking it in one gulp, the girl felt that she had become a little easier. The cold went through the body with a wave of goosebumps, the headache calmed down for a couple of seconds, but didn’t disappear at all.

“Where did you get this coat?” McNamara asked her, only now noticing the edges of her coat hanging down to the floor.

“Found in the hospital.” Nora breathed. “His owner lives in another city... What will happen now, Aunt Heather?”

The woman sat on the edge of the sofa, holding her hand tightly. She was so fragile, Nora was able to consider in her this truly painful thinness and weakness. It is unlikely that all this has appeared only now. It may have worsened, but didn’t occur in a day.

“Your mother... Martha saw her.” McNamara said with great difficulty. “She is... I must confess, but it's so hard, honey! You look so much like her, I like talking to her myself...”

Nora, panting, rose and squeezed her aunt's hands in her palms. She no longer thought about the tears that filled her face.

“Please tell me everything straight.” The girl asked, barely breathing. “Because it makes no sense to try to make things better. She died, what could be worse than that...”

“We’ll say goodbye to her here.” The woman said with confidence. “Your mother had friends and acquaintances here. And everyone loved her, so no one would let her go unworthy. And, be sure, no one will leave you...”

Nora didn't care about herself. For now. She didn’t think now about how important the question of her future life was, because she simply couldn’t imagine her future at all, couldn’t think of life without mom. She didn’t say it out loud, and didn’t have time, because Aunt Heather had already started talking about it.

“...Martha and I wanted to be your guardians as soon as we found out about all this. We haven’t known almost all your life that you are exist, but we will accept you any, it’s not just our duty... Or rather,” McNamara hesitated, “we wanted to one of us adopt you, but... You see, I have the stage three. Aunt Martha, I’m sure, will fight for you to the end, but we don’t even know what to expect.”

“What?” Nora just managed to exhale.

She didn’t understand what was at stake. She didn’t understand the words at all. But Aunt Heather continued to speak and explain, apparently understanding her confusion differently.

“You know... No one knew that he was alive. I mean, your father. Veronica told you what happened between them?”

He left. He died. Mom was sure of this, she made it clear that she saw it with her own eyes.

“He's dead.” Nora said, fetching only that from her head.

“We thought so too. And no one knows what happened to him, no one understands how this happened. He arrived last night, and this morning said that he would qualify for guardianship...”

Nora opened her mouth in amazement. She ceased to understand anything at all. She couldn’t even think, just couldn’t.

“Marta...” Heather sighed, rising to her feet. “Marta has arrived.”

After a minute or two, or just eternity, another woman was nearby. Fat, pale and tense. She froze, looking at her just like Aunt Heather.

“I explained everything to her...” McNamara muttered, then muttered again. “I had told everything, and about JD too.”

“All at once?” The woman’s eyebrows frowned even more. “Heather, she's in shock. Most likely, she didn’t understand anything. Nora, I’m Martha, I’ve talked with you on the phone. Can you hear me? Do you see me?”

Nora, looking up at her again, batting her eyes. Martha had a scattering of wrinkles in the corners of her eyes, both age and expression lines. She, too, seemed older, but there was no disease, but fatigue, from which the woman even had trembling hands. And, nevertheless, from her appearance everything became a little easier. It was evident that Miss Dunnstock feels herself very hard, she grieved no less than them, but, nevertheless, she kept very well.

“Nora, let's agree that you will go to the hospital with me now, and then, when it becomes easier for you, I will take you with me to the morgue. I won’t leave you for a second, you can be sure.” The woman held out her hand. “Can you go? I'm driving…”

“What about the father?” The girl exhaled. “Do I have a father?”

Dunnstock sighed, hunched over. She pursed her lips, but didn’t turn her displeasure at Heather.

“I'll tell you everything along the way, okay? Honestly, I'll tell you along the way. Come on, Nora. You can lean on me. How is your leg?”

Nora rose, taking her outstretched hand. Martha was trusted with ease, she was an ingenuous person. In addition, she supported her on the go with such care and caution as no nurse had. It was a real excitement about a loved one. As if she were her own daughter. They hardly knew her...

“Be sure to call when you get to the hospital.” Heather said, leading to the door. “You call too, Nora. Although you probably don’t have a phone... I’ll give it to you. Martha, remind me later to...”

“Yes, I get it, Heather.” Dunnstock said tiredly. “I will not step away from her, and let him do what he wants with me...”

The creaking of the brakes at the doors made them all throw their faces up to the gate.

“Oh, speaking of the devil...” McNamara whispered softly.

Nora saw a man getting out of a dark car, slamming the door loudly. He went to the gate, and then saw her. It was a completely different look. No one looked at her like that - neither Heather nor Martha. He had eyes like two burning coals, and such a shocked look... The wind disheveled his wrinkled dark hair. And the floors of an unbuttoned shirt. It was him. He was sleeping at the next ward. That was his trench coat.

Now it’s as if a circle has been completely closed. It all started again. She must wake up in the ward to once again see him.

Another bout of headache was so terrible that Nora cried out.

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

In the eyes, everything was not just reddened, but darkened. And now for a long time.


	3. you are broken

JD didn’t like to be alone with both Dunnstock and McNamara, so now he was avoiding them, while at the same time doing something useful - he was organizing the funeral and paperwork.

The third day passed since the moment the accident happened. Eleanor didn’t wake up, like a day. Looking at the watch, JD was convinced of this - for sure, the girl had been lying unconscious for a little more than a day in McNamara’s house, where after her was looked adult women, her mother’s friends, and, finally, doctors.

Was he ashamed that once again he wasn’t next to his daughter? Not really. Of course, JD was worried about her, he was waiting and at the same time afraid of the moment when Eleanor would wake up, but now was not the moment when he had to sit next to her, stand idly. How will he help? The girl will not come to consciousness faster from this, and she is unlikely to be delighted to see him - a strange man - next to her. She had already panicked in the hospital, and now, what it turned into - she ran around the city with a concussion and a bruised leg, and then fell unconscious again.

Leaving the morgue, JD didn’t even hear a phone call. He was so deep in his thoughts, he was so shocked that he woke up behind the wheel only ten minutes later, smoking another cigarette when an unbearable ringing was heard from the telephone trembling in his head.

“She woke up.” Martha said reluctantly. “She is already better. But I'm not sure that she wants to talk with you.”

“I will be soon.” He answered indifferently.

Why should he care about what Marta was sure of? Dunnstock was still too naive, because she didn’t understand one very important and obvious thing - whether she wants to or not, a conversation between him and his daughter will take place, and very soon. Veronica was their close person, they need to... to conduct her in the last way with paying deserving tribute. They will have to interact, help each other, even if Eleanor hates him. And she will be.

A few missed calls from father were reflected on the phone screen, and a certain number of unread ones was also shown in Messages. JD removed the phone. He didn’t want to speak with Bud now, he generally put up with him with difficulty. Especially now.

He just remembered the time when his mother was buried. A series of unfamiliar sympathetic persons, erased from memory, a strange inappropriate triumph that flew somehow too quickly. The boy didn’t understand what had happened. They immediately went to the next city. And that’s all. As if nothing had happened. Father was too indifferent to all this. JD sincerely believed that this was normal, but...

But now he felt different. He loved Veronica. He felt guilty for her. Now it was difficult for him to drive this damn car, in the eyes stood the sight of her crippled body, and in his head was a complete mess. Fortunately, he could still carry out simple commands, dangle from one building to another, coping somehow with the official part.

Now all of this, of course, has faded into the background. Eleanor wake up.

He saw her for the last time a day ago, when at all speed he came to McNamara’s house, learning that his daughter was in her house, and not in the hospital where she should be taken. And he saw her. Veronica. Her large dark eyes, reddened with pain, deadly pale skin, streaked with scratches on the left cheek. A face framed by tousled locks of the color of a raven wing. They lacked exactly that chocolate shine, but that wasn’t matter, he didn’t think about this detail until the moment he saw... his daughter again. Horribly like a young mother. He didn’t even have time to make a step towards her. Most likely, he would have stood there like a fool, staring at her if the girl hadn’t fainted, hanging on Dunnstock’s arms. Fortunately, this weight fell on Martha, and not on McNamara, because this weakling has definitely dropped the girl on the cobblestones.

JD remembered how these two idiots with a suddenly awakened maternal instinct were staring at him, almost scratching his hands in blood while he carried his daughter, a very light girl, into some free room. Something told him that, despite the abundance of guest bedrooms, Heather McNamara's parents wouldn’t be happy with such a guest.

They were incredible snobs, with difficulty sharing their place with at least someone and parting with their acquired property. Now their daughter was ill with cancer, and they probably had to give a ton of money. It is unlikely that their generosity woke up from this. Heather herself remained that naive girl who felt like an eternal victim. Expectedly, they became friends with Dunnstock, and, expectedly, because of all their complexes and troubles, both had no families left. Martha seems to have had a baby, a teenage son. JD didn’t remember where he heard this, but the fact was a fact. It was better for Martha to go to her son, but she was here, grimaced at him. He had to persuade her by hook or by crook to call him, father, when his daughter comes to her senses.

He was not immediately allowed into the McNamara’s house, they held him for half a minute at the gate, and just then they opened both the gate and the front door.

“She's in the kitchen, Marta persuaded her to eat. I dressed her up. I found some old things, they suited her well. ” Said Heather, adjusting the new turban on her head.

She was nervous, didn’t look into his eyes. It seemed that she was always afraid of him, not without reason, as it turned out. That's even better. JD was already annoyed. He pictured Eleanor - a thin, dark-haired and gloomy girl - in the old clothes of McNamara. It was such an absurd picture.

From the kitchen came the sound of the news - the voice of the announcer. JD noticed that Heather was surprised and alarmed no less than him. They looked into the dining room together, first seeing the plasma on the wall opposite the entrance. The Ohio State Channel was just covering the “Sherwood Tragedy”, as the running line at the bottom of the screen said. There was only one photograph on the screen, from which even JD’s blood went cold: a photograph of a car.

The Ford Victoria, on which Veronica rode, lay on the roof by the curb, dented and twisted so much that it was impossible to recognize it. Small pieces of glass lay nearby, as did small details. A crumpled hood hung over the ground. The photo wasn’t very high-quality, but color, so that he could make out places where paint had been hit, light spots in the cabin, where, obviously, foam had come out of the cut seats. There was no glass at all, one door was knocked out by an impact. It seems that red stripes coming from the door were visible. As if someone with severe bleeding was inaccurately pulled out from the inside.

And now he noticed Eleanor. Her muffled shout made everyone pay attention to her. Having jumped from her place at the table, she crashed a glass with milk into the floor, and then, raising her eyes wet from tears, she noticed adults too. Her face stretched out in fright, and her large eyes became even larger. Eyebrows frowned in anger. At that moment, she was even more like a mother.

“My dear.” Heather rushed to her, immediately grabbing the remote control and turning off the TV.

_“... as it became known, the offender was caught at the state border...”_ The woman’s announcer’s words hung in the air.

“Aunt Heather...” The girl breathed. “Sorry for... Sorry...”

“My dear.” McNamara still repeated. “You don't have to make excuses for anything. For God's sake, I hate these journalists...”

Eleanor looked at him again, still trembling with surging emotions, but already in confusion and fear. She didn’t look ridiculous. Heather was smart enough to pick up not yellow outfits with ruffles, but something simpler and not so bright. She was wearing a gray tank under a dark thin jacket, gray spacious jeans and gray ballet shoes.

“You...” The girl breathed, looking into his face. “So it's you.”

“Obviously, it’s me.” JD said.

She had his eye color and his hair, it became even more noticeable near. And she didn’t pursing her lips. She didn’t raise her eyebrows.

“You knew we were alive.” She growled.

“I found out not so long ago.” JD corrected. “I’m, like everyone here, didn’t know that you exist.”

“But you knew that mom was alive. And she thought you were dead!” Finally, she raised her tone, and stepped forward with great difficulty, judging by the tension that reflected on her face. “You lied to her, and she loved you... Until the very end!”

Tears spilled from her eyes again. McNamara was under her hand with a paper scarf, but Eleanor stops her by the hand, not even letting her get closer.

“So why the hell are you running into here!” Continued the girl. “You have no right to come to her funeral! And you have no right to be called my guardian!”

“I am here because I loved her, and because I found out that I have a daughter to take care of.” JD answered, trying not to raise his tone.

“You could have remembered that before.” McNamara muttered.

“Get out, Heather.” The man answered her, angrily glancing in her direction.

“This is my house!” She sighed indignantly. “So you get out, Jason!”

“I won't get out until I explain everything to my daughter!” He answered.

Eleanor let out a hysterical chuckle, and then pulled away from him.

“I am not your daughter!” She exclaimed. “But you have to explain something to me, it is! Aunt Heather, could you leave us alone?”

McNamara gave her a warning look.

“Honey, this man is dangerous. I don’t want to leave you alone with him, and your mother would probably support me...”

“Don't try to brainwash her!” Exclaimed JD. “Do you think I can lay my hand on her?”

“You laid your hand on Veronica, and then disappeared from her life forever!” Answered Heather.

“You...” JD exhaled violently. He couldn’t tell it. He should not have told it. “Everything was... You don’t know what happened there.”

“Try to explain!” Eleanor stepped forward, covering McNamara's hand. “But I'm sure you have no excuse. Nothing can justify you!”

“Yes, we fought, I hurt her, but I didn’t want this. I wanted her to live, live in a better world, but I was mistaken in which world is the best, she convinced me of this. And she was ready to sacrifice herself, but I volunteered instead.”

“You exploded in front of her eyes.” The girl breathed. “Yes, I know. I’ve been told. But you damn survived, and if you cherished her so much, you could find her and come to her... to us.”

“I was in the hospital for two years. My father took me out of the city and supported rumors of my death, and I’m myself was kept in the dark for a long time, until I could control myself again.”

“Another bad excuse.” Eleanor shook her head. She clenched her jaw. “You know what? I still haven’t heard anything sensible from you, and, apparently, I will not hear. You can stop dodging before me, just get out of here.”

“Eleanor...” The man tried to take a step towards, but the girl stepped back, barely startled.

“Don't call me that!” She interrupted. “Don't call me any at all. Seriously, get away. It’s even unclear whether you really are my father. Let's see what the forensic examination will show.”

“Nora...” Heather whispered in amazement.

“If he wants to be my guardian, if he is called my father, let him prove it to the court! My mother is a lawyer! And I know what I'm talking about!”

Quickly brushing away tears, she looked away. She should have recalled her mother aloud again with great strength.

“Jason, you heard her.” McNamara turned to him. “Get out.”

The daughter, turning away from both of them, burst into tears. And he left. Because he really loved her, even if she didn’t believe in that.

* * *

Yes, she knew what she was doing. Each time Martha and Heather asked about it, she answered and thought the same way every time. Every day, every hour. She knew that if a forensic genetics analyses showed that he really was her father, he was likely to be her guardian, because she had no more relatives left, and she don’t want to live in an orphanage for nine months, so she couldn’t refuse to live with him. Heather McNamara couldn’t have become her guardian - not with her illness, which, due to all this hassle, shown itself even more. A big surprise for everyone was that Martha wouldn’t be able to become her guardian.

She persuaded a common law husband all these days. He made it clear that he was absolutely against it. Martha cried all day, she seriously thought about divorcing him, but Nora, reluctantly approached her, firmly took her hand, and said. “Stop it, aunty, don’t you dare to ruin your family because of me.”

Marta tried to convince her, she could have done it if Nora hadn’t reminded herself about Dannstock's son - that boy who had a family and who wasn’t supposed to lose her, as Nora lost. She decided to talk to JD one more time, although she sent him away just a couple of days ago.

The day of the funeral was as viscous and muddy as molasses. Nora takes three sedative tablets in the morning in excess of the norm, so for her all these hours passed, as in a dream. The stunning black dress that Heather lent to her (again, indefinitely, like many other things) had to fit her directly. If there wasn’t all this grief that squeezed her chest and throat, the girl could feel herself a real beauty and admire herself in the mirror for a couple of minutes. Instead, she put on top a coat with a large enough hood that could at least slightly hide her face, and took an old umbrella with her. It began to drizzle on the street.

The path to the crematorium, spent in the cramped Martha’s car, where everything in the cabin smelled of corn sticks and the “Frosty Freshness” hanging freshener, was incredibly fast. Nora almost fell asleep due to a dose of sedative. She was awakened by touching her shoulder slightly. No one said a word this morning.

JD was in the crematorium too, where he could be otherwise. Martha and Heather didn’t drive him away, remembering that Nora had an important conversation to him, which they thought three together - all together - last night.

Mom was very beautiful. Heather really took care of her look, but these scars were noticeable, and not only they, but also echoes of the last emotions that slightly distorted her face features. Nora looked at her, standing next to JD, and she literally heard his pain - he was breathing deeply, trying to come to his senses. She didn’t utter a tear, even when she touched her mother’s face for the last time. She would like to be sobriety now in order to memorize every mother’s feature well, but if there were no sedatives, she would blow the crematorium, it was very clear to everyone.

“There will be a broadcast on the screen.” Said the worker, on whom Nora hardly looked up. “So you can watch.”

She almost called him an idiot, but her tongue was messing with itself. In the literal sense, it was difficult for her to even clench her fists, not to mention say something. Martha answered something, squeezing her hand.

Nora couldn't watch. But she forced herself to raise her eyes to the screen, though she didn’t take more than a minute.

The ashes, according to the will, which mother made ten years ago, were divided between relatives, in the list of which Nora was allowed to make Martha and Heather. Of course, this didn’t comfort them much. They couldn’t stop crying, carrying a small vase in the car. Nora stopped on the threshold, barely staggering without unnecessary support. She was already falling from drowsiness.

“Jason.” She said softly when she saw man come out. He immediately looked up at her, kind of surprised. “You are... Jason?”

“JD, nobody calls me Jason.” He shook his head, his gaze so... extinct. “I don't like my name.”

“Me either.” Nora nodded. “What is there with the expertise?”

“It’ll be ready tomorrow.” The man answered her.

“I would like to talk about guardianship.” Nora managed to say. “Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“No.” JD shook his head. “Then I'll call you at twelve, okay? I will bring the results with me.”

Nora nodded. “Martha and Heather will also be present. I just... can't live without them.”

“I see.” JD frowned. It is unlikely that he really understood. “Till tomorrow.”

He wanted to say something else, it was visible in the eyes and lips, but he said nothing, and left. Nora slowly descended after him, but got into her aunt's car.

The next morning was even harder than the previous ones. Nora couldn’t look without tears at the vase with dust on her table, but she shouldn’t drink sedatives. Today she needed a sober head. The results of the examination, a discussion of the conditions of guardianship before the upcoming court, for all this she had to remain in her mind.

She again didn’t touch breakfast, immediately sat down at the documents that she should read. Mom taught her to carefully read all the papers. The letters blurred before eyes, like coherent thoughts do, so it took quite a lot of time to read only two sheets.

Before JD arrived, she managed to meet Martha, who again had halfhearted words at home, then lied to her that she had breakfast, then helped Aunt Heather come down to her brunch. McNamara three days earlier turned thirty-six, but she categorically didn’t want to remember this. She blamed herself, despite the fact that the newspapers actively wrote about the arrest of man, who was responsible for the accident, who also had to face trial from day to day, almost immediately after the issue of custody of Nora.

JD, in this black trench coat, which Nora couldn’t calmly look at, sat at the table right in his outer clothing, handing the envelope to her, and not to Dunnstock or McNamara. She didn’t give a damn about accuracy, because her trembling fingers let her down, the girl tore the envelope and picked up a piece of paper, looking for the right number, previously circled in a circle so that it was easier for non-professional people to find it.

_99, 99%, paternity proven_

Well, of course. She could just look at JD, and then in the mirror to see this.

Having lowered the sheet, Nora handed it to her _father_, so that he would attentively look at it. As already mentioned, there was no reason to be surprised at this, to be upset too, because she shed enough tears, and there was no reason for a loud quarrel. Paternity is proven, the court will pronounce a verdict in his favor, she will agree with the verdict, if she doesn’t want to end up in a boarding school for most of the year. It couldn’t be otherwise. Nora wanted to get up from the table and go to her room, lie down and, if it was possible by now, cry, but she just sighed and covered her face with her palm.

“Do you still want to be my guardian?” She asked quietly.

JD hesitated, looking in her face, not knowing what she wants to achieve with this issue. However, he nodded, ready for any reaction.

“I agree to be under your guardianship until I come of age, but there,” she emphasized the word, with a look pointing to Martha and Heather, “there are several conditions that we have.”

“You?” He asked.

“I would like to live with Martha or Heather, but it will not work out.” The girl shook her head. “However, this doesn’t mean that since you are my only choice, then you can use it as you wish.”

“How, for example, could I use this?” Asked JD, raising an eyebrow.

“To threaten the life of this girl, for example.” McNamara, despite her particularly sick look, looked at him with all severity, folding her arms over her chest.

“Once again, I repeat to you, I don’t want and will not threaten her!” The man raised his tone.

“We want to control this.” Marta interrupted, not wanting to give free rein to this skirmish. “So you stay in Sherwood. If it necessary, we will help to buy a house, one is just for sale next to me on the next street.”

“What if I have my own life in another city?” JD expectedly indignant. “Work, family...”

“Wife and two children?” Nora raised her eyebrows, for the first time at least some emotions pierced through her mask of gloom and inhibition.

“Father.” JD answered.

Nora sighed, looking down. Something was said to her about his father, but until this moment she hadn’t thought about him. Now she remembered more: JD himself shouted that his father was restraining him from a trip to Veronica.

“The one that kept you from reaching us?” She looked up again, barely holding back her sarcastic tone.

“That one.” The man nodded to her.

“What does he think about Nora?” Marta asked warily. “Why did he bother you?”

JD barely looked at her before returning to a conversation with his daughter, speaking only to her. “When I'm reached out to Veronica for the last time, I blew myself up, and this forced him to hide me and quickly move away from Sherwood, and then change the name of his company...”

“Reached out?” Heather clapped her hand on the counter top. “You speak as if it was her!..”

“That's what my father says, not me!” Answered JD. “And, of course, I don’t give a damn about his opinion, both about Veronica and about Eleanor...”

Nora shook a little when her full name sounded again. And, nevertheless, she wasn’t going to let this man call her as everyone else had called.

“Then why don’t you want to leave him in another city?” Marta entered. “And how were you going to bring Nora there, to that city, if your father clearly has his thoughts about her presence?”

JD was silent for a moment, barely frowning. He changed his face, and therefore it became noticeable that he was seriously thinking about this issue for the first time. The silence lasted a few more seconds before he raised an uncertain look at his daughter.

“Okay, we'll figure it out. I will go to my father and talk to him.”

“But she will not stay in that city, do you understand? This is our condition.” Heather recalled. “We want to have access to the girl.”

“I’ll go with you.” Nora cut her off, being a little annoyed at how they discussed her, like a piece of meat. “I want to look and think too. Maybe I will not mind moving there.” Before the women spoke, she quickly added. “We can call up every day. And I can come here for the weekend or vacation.”

“And what if Bud is against it?”Asked Marta.

“Then I’ll move here.” JD answered without hesitation. “And I’ll deal with the company.”

Nora sighed. Well, if her grandfather was really against her... She had to go, just to look him in the eye. He broke their lives long before this crush.

“When will we go?” She asked.

“We can go tomorrow.” JD answered. “We'll talk and go back to Sherwood the same day. Just in time for the court.”

Nora without a thought began to make in her mind a list of things that she would take with her.


	4. you are angry

JD was focused on driving, he even drove less than the speed limit, because he felt from the beginning how stressed his daughter was. If there were two seat belts, she would have used two at once. Her noticeable panic subsided over time, when she take two pills of a powerful sedative (he knew very well what are they called and look), and then turned to the window, because she was apparently falling asleep. In any case, none of them was ready to talk.

Nora tried to sleep, honestly. She had never pretended to be asleep for so long. She would like to fall asleep now, and wake up already at the state border, but her heart was pounding in her chest so hard that she couldn’t even breathe calmly. She had to again exceed the dose of sedative, although Aunt Martha warned that substance abuse could cause side effects that, together with her concussion, could be a bad trip for her. _How it can be worse_, the girl thought every time before taking more than one pill.

Now this helped her not to panic, but she was still far from sleep or even nap. In the end, Nora found reassurance in the sounds of the car - no music, no conversations, only engine noise, concentrated clicks of the transmitters, the clatter of the gearbox. The car worked properly, the road was not so slippery, the visibility was excellent, and JD tried very hard to prove himself as a good driver. Everything was quiet, nothing threatened them.

_Then they, too, were not in danger. **Please, shut up**_ **.**

Nora clenched her fists to the pain in her hands. The nails have grown, and now they cut into the palm of the hand until red marks appeared there. Nora noticed them later, when it was too late. And she never regretted. Rather, she didn’t care. Head and leg hurt much more than that.

And yet, it was impossible to think about pain and panic all four hours of the journey. By the end of the third hour, Nora had stopped trying to fall sleep. She sat up straight in her seat, looking everywhere, but not at JD — at the road, at the dashboard, into the rear-view mirrors.

By the way, she managed to notice something interesting - stickers, scuffs, and sometimes cracks in the edges of the glasses (there were thirteen of them, with all the branches). The car was very well preserved, but under Nora's feet something crunched. It seems like chips or nuts. And in the back seat on the right was a dark, stubborn stain from some kind of liquid. So, not much caring for the car. And there was the almost worn out sticker with a bright inscription “_BOOM!_”, once sloppy taped, convinced Nora that her father was a mad man. First, then suicide in the stadium, and then he became the head of the demolition company.

Explosive temper, haha. Would her former teachers laugh at that?

The Highway-town was located near the forest, there they mined wood for the entire state. Was it a profitable place for a dynamite merchant? Maybe yes. How long have they moved here?

Nora didn’t ask any of her questions, and didn’t dare to break the silence. The trip was quiet, yes, but because of all these marked signs certain conclusions were came to her mind, and then appeared a real fear. In the end, all maniacs are calm and self-confident. That is, cold-blooded and persistent. But there was still some strange light in JD, some kind of spark, although his eyes had been extinct for all this time. Nora understood that this trip would make everything clearer.

Calming and reassuring herself, she got out of the car, looking around in the Dean's garage. Much attention was drawn to the old motorcycle in the corner, next to which were boxes with a pile of parts and tools. There was a big mess, a thick layer of dust covered the walls and shelves with a huge amount of all kinds of signed boxes. Apparently, no one bothered to clean them out after the move, so things at least remained in their places.

JD waved to her, leading her into the living room through the inner garage door.

“Just be quiet, no matter how much he pisses you off.” He said quietly.

But not quite enough, because he heard them.

“And here you are, pops!” Rang out from the stairs.

As the wiry man descended, the railing swayed violently. God, why didn’t any of them think about repairing anything or even tidying up in here? Hoping for another quick move?

“Yes, here I am... son.” JD muttered, taking off his coat. “We have a guest.”

“I couldn’t have expected anything else. Our guests are a rare treats, but very impressive.”

Bud Dean, in a sport sweatshirt and ripped jeans, pursed his lips in a gambling smile, apparently looking forward to a sight. His wrinkled face was distorted in a grimace, to which JD probably got used to, but Nora had to use, stand in a stupor for a couple of seconds, speechless.

“Looks just like her.” Bud said, looking around her. “But eyes are ours.”

“Her name is Eleanor.” Said JD, standing between them. “This is your granddaughter, and this is your grandfather, Bud Dean.”

“Just Bud. Don’t age me.” He grinned loudly. “I was waiting to see you with my own eyes.”

“Really?” came out from her.

Cool, it was less than a minute, and she already realized that she felt unique disgust for him.

“We wandered here for a short while. There’s a business conversation.” JD sighed.

“How much you have to do, dad.” Bud shook his head, and then flopped down onto the washed sofa. “Can you just for one evening sat with me at the telly, talking heart to heart.”

_He is weirdo_, Nora decided for herself. Then she turned her eyes to JD, who sighed heavier, looking his father up.

“I’ve been talking enough.” He said. “You know that is important to me.”

“It's so important that you hijacked my car and didn't pick up the phone for a week or so.” Bud looked at her again. Like a predator. Nora clenched her jaw, reflexively tensing, as if expecting a blow. “You, apparently, are a very special girl, Eleanor, since he forgot his own father because of you.”

“She is my daughter. Veronica’s daughter.” JD said sharply before Nora burst out a curse. “This isn’t the right time to joke.”

“Amazingly, it seemed to me that, on the contrary, you don’t have time to be serious.” Bud clapped his hands on his knees. “Okay, sit down, since I’m talking. This will be a long time?”

“I'm sure not. And I won’t take your car again, don’t worry. We will leave by taxi.”

“And don't even have a dinner with me?” The old man rose from the couch. “I was just about to unfreeze seafood pizza. Although you can order hot pineapple pizza.”

_He's also a sick_, Nora thought.

“How long has it been since you’ve had something in your mouth, girl?” He asked, turning to her. “With all this fuss, I think, about a week ago, right?”

“I'm not hungry.” She answered.

“Do a favor to the old man.” He said immediately, almost interrupting her. “This is our first meeting. The first meeting can be done better by a very beautiful firework or a very crispy cheese crust on top of tomatoes. Sit at the table. I am sure we will have time to talk.”

Nora looked at JD, waiting for his actions. He had better know how to deal with this crazy man. When the father went to the table, the girl had no choice but to follow him. Bud took a box out of the freezer and knocked the ice from it.

Nora looked away from him, but then she noticed that the old man was still looking at her. Their eyes crossed, and from this irresistible evil interest in his eyes she was becoming nastier and nastier.

“Does the house have a mistress?” She asked.

JD, sitting at the edge of the table, tensed again, but said nothing.

“There is no need for her.” Bud grinned after a long pause. “How long I lived with my son as a bachelor, and didn’t see any disadvantages. The two of us live well, right, pop?”

“Not really, son.” JD said. “You know, children should someday fly out of the nest.”

“Only if the children don’t have a pull to self-demolition.”

The answer was pretty sharp. At the same time, Bud last hit with a package on the table. The blow was pretty sharp, the clap made Nora just shudder. One ice crumb fell into her hand, but the girl didn’t even look up at her grandfather, who was standing on the other side of the table.

“Maybe,” Nora brushed the melting ice from the table, “the chicks lack a female hand.”

“Enough.” Said Bad, not taking his eyes off his son. “This mania didn’t come out of nothing. He inherited it.”

JD’s jaw was tense. He looked away, staring angrily at the living room.

“This is a very tragic story.” Bud was still smiling. Sadistically, viciously. Nora turned on him, realizing that he had noticed her reaction - interest. “Want to know about your grandmother?”

“I can tell her myself.” JD interrupted. “In private.”

“Why, it’s customary to share family history with your family.” Bud waved a kitchen knife, then deftly opened the package.

“Not in this case.” His son repeated louder. “We are here to talk about guardianship over Eleanor. Paternity is proven if the details are important to you.”

“As if someone could doubt it.” Bud muttered. “She's a copy of you.”

“Actually, they tell me more often that I look like a mother.” Nora said.

“Especially now, huh?” Bud cheerfully raised a corner of his lips. “How entertaining people become after someone's death.”

“Tomorrow's trial. I am recognized as her guardian. ”JD spoke louder.

A wide blade slid across the cardboard, cutting through and through. With a rustle and a knock, the knife fell to the floor, right between her and Bud. Out of habit, Nora bent over the first, for this she had to lower herself on one knee and lean on her hands so that the second wouldn’t ache. She took the blade, and then she caught a glimpse of something gray under the countertop. Eyes looked in that direction by themselves. Gray tape. Dark trunk.

Fucking gun, attached to the countertop, directly above her place at the table.

“Congratulations, you found a bonus.” Bud said disappointingly, also leaning toward her.

Nora jumped to her feet, frightened. Not by weapons, of course, but this man who was too close at the moment.

“This is for protection against thieves.” JD said immediately, catching her wary and wicked look. “The most creative cache.”

“Want to hide something – put in the place most visible.” Bud nodded rather. “Sit down , girl. Don’t be afraid. There is no dynamite with me today.”

“Sit down.” JD asked softer. “We will finish and leave here, really.”

Nora didn’t take her eyes off him. He was so calm. Of course, for him it was taken for granted. Damn it, she's half crazy, she was acting the same.

The girl sat on a chair, moving away from the table a little further.

“Back to the subject.” JD began again.

“You are the guardian, yeah.” Bud nodded to him. “Sounds like another tragic adventure. Who will die this time?”

“Nobody!” Man raised the tone. “You know very well that no one will die anymore. And don’t try to convince me and Eleanor of the opposite. In all seriousness, I will become her father, I am her father.”

“You know about her existence for a week.”

“How much do you know about her?” JD wasn’t going to restrain himself anymore. “Surely longer than me or anyone else from Sherwood. In the end, you so carefully hide any news from me from there, you kept me locked up for almost ten years, you ruined my prostheses, and if I didn’t buy new ones, you would keep me at home as a cripple pet. You always liked it, even when I had legs!”

“You carry nonsense! You shouldn't have changed your brainwasher so often.”

“And you shouldn't have locked me here like your tame little beast! And then Veronica would be alive, and your granddaughter wouldn’t look at you like an animal!”

“Oh, she just like mother! She was too smart too...”

“Son of a bitch!” Exclaimed Nora, rising from the table. “You dare not say a word about my mother!”

“Well, try to protect her honor.” Bud shrugged. “There is no one else who can do it.”

JD approached him too quickly, his figure just flashed at Nora's eyes. She barely dodged the packaging of food that flew in her direction. A piece of frozen pizza flew right up to the end of the living room, flying at her head.

Bud defeated his son without difficulty, he just hit on the hip, which made JD howl and lose support in his legs. He had no legs, Nora reminded herself. Prostheses. There prostheses began.

“Stop it!” She exclaimed, throwing herself in their direction.

Bud turned to her, grabbing her forearm.

“Shrill and stubborn, why am I not surprised?”

“And you are a nutty sadist!” She spat in his face.

“Not less than you.” Bad shook his head.

He strode at her, knocked down with his chest. Nora began to get mess in her legs, she didn’t see where she was going, couldn’t dodge, because her hand was in a tight grip.

“You can fail like your mother did once!” Growled Bud. “It would be time to realize that women have no place in our lives: neither his mother, nor yours, nor you yourself!”

“Damn Fuck!” The girl tried to hit him on the leg, but she was too weak.

She was shaking from exhaustion and fear, and she still couldn’t resist her sore leg. Nora began to fall, and Bud had only to unclench his hand, which he did, leaving her on the floor.

“Don't touch her!” Heard from JD.

“Stay still!” Shouted Bud in his direction.

“Try to make me now!” The man rose to his feet.

Bud headed in his direction.

Nora first managed to get up on all fours, hearing the sounds of a fight there, then half-crawled to the kitchen. She grabbed a chair, but couldn’t knock him over Bud’s back, he just nearly knocked down the table, and was still very angry at her, shoved back. Having fallen on her back, Nora gasped, because she hardly hit her head. She turned glance to the side of the table, turned on her side, not having the strength to get up, because her back was still sore, and now all these sores and a hunger strike made themselves felt. She noticed something gray. Tape, which barely peeled off due to the fact that the table was constantly staggering. JD turned around very deftly, hiding behind chairs, but Bud was determined to kill him, at least that was what it looked like.

And what else was left to do? Here he is - a disabled person and her last relative, on which another man with a wild look races with a hammer for meat.

The quiet sound of pulling the trigger made them both turn around. Nora looked in surprise at the gun in her hand, flicked the trigger a couple more times. It’s not pressed. Not pressed!

“You don't even know how to use it, honey.” Said Bad.

“Fuse.” Breathed JD.

“Oh, fuse.” Nora repeated after him, and then lowered the necessary hook.

The first shot hit the window, which was only a few inches from Bud. From the sound of broken glass, Nora was most frightened, she almost jumped to the ceiling.

“Fuck!” Exclaimed Bud, hiding his hand from the glass.

“Eleanor, calm down!” JD held out his hand.

She turned back to them, still holding out trembling hands in front of her. The gun was again aimed at them. Both men almost crouched against the wall. JD, taking a breath, stepped a little closer. “Put it down. Drop it. I'm fine.”

“No, you're not.” She shook her head, not at all understanding how she managed not to stutter. “This asshole... He said that mom...”

“He's not worth it, Nora.” JD stepped closer. “We just leave, leave him alone and will never return here, I promise.”

“He hides you from us!” Nora put her finger on the trigger again.

Tears of sorrow mixed with tears of rage. JD was a meter away from her.

“Nora, give me the gun.” He said almost calmly.

She said nothing, looking at him full of resentment and hatred. The man realized that she was absolutely in her mind, one hundred percent, although she hardly managed to control herself. The moment of fear passed, but it wasn’t only made her grab onto the firearm.

“He's not worth it, I know.” JD put his hand on the trunk, then pulled it out of the hands of his daughter, who dropped her trembling hands down and was hunched over, on the verge of hysteria. “And so I'm leaving him. Forever. Together with you.”

“You should have done that before. As soon as you could get to your feet, you should have run away and come to us.” Breathed Eleanor through tears, and then, staggering and limping, went to the living room. “And now you just have no choice.”

“Nonsense, you know it yourself.” JD, also barely limping, caught up with her quickly. “I could choose him, because now you have so many people who want and can take care of you. Heather wouldn’t just give up if you were sent to an orphanage. With all of them, you would be better off than with me, but I cannot leave you because you are mine. And I love you just as I always loved your mother.”

“I’m not yours.” Nora wiped the tears flowing down her cheeks, but it was useless. “I belong to my mom. She gave birth to me, she raised me, she fought for me, not you.”

“I would also fight if I knew earlier. I fight now, and I will fight. I know it's late, but maybe you will give me a chance? I wanted to prove to your mother that I had changed. But I didn’t have time. Let me prove it to you?”

“You had changed?” Laughed Bud.

They turned on him, remembering sharply that the old man was still here, no longer clinging to the wall.

“Yes, you know, this happens to people when they first sacrifice themselves for their loved ones, and then learn to live without legs.” JD snarled in his direction. “You are unlikely to understand. Enjoy the fireworks further.”

He wiped the gun on his shirt, pulled a map out of it, and then scattered the two parts into different corners of the room. “Meet me when they take the property.” He said.

“Take my property?” Bud tapped his hand on the table. “Why the hell?”

“I have a substantial debt for my child support.” A wry smile appeared on JD’s lips. He handed over his daughter’s coat, put on his black trench coat again. “And something will have to be sold.”

They left the house, hearing an angry roar behind them, and then a roar. Nora trembled with her whole body, adrenaline still supported her in consciousness and full readiness for the next round of the fight. JD called a taxi while continuing to walk along the sidewalk.

“He will have to sell his share of the company.” He sighed when the telephone conversation ceased. “That will cover half of my debt, and maybe still be enough for the house Marta suggests moving to. I hate her neighborhood.”

Unlike him, Nora didn’t become so talkative of an overabundance of feelings. She was still silent, pondering her and his words in that house. And she wanted to run, run very far from all the Deans. The boarding school is only for nine months, it’s not such a disaster, in fact...

“You shouldn't have seen all this. I should have talked you out, take my apologize.” JD said.

“No, I should have been there.” She muttered, catching his gaze. “I learned so much and understood so much that I have no questions for you, JD. Neither to you, nor to your nutty father. And no one will know about this, don’t worry.”

“I'm not worried, actually.” The man shook his head. “I thought you had a hysteria and you could kill us, but you just... You're just very passionate, but you know how to control yourself like she does. And messing up with the police is not your style.

“You don't know what's in my style.” Nora answered, snapping back. “I just don't want to lose my guardian to be taken from Martha and Heather.”

Taxi arrived right at that moment. Looking at each other, father and daughter no longer began to talk about anything - not with a taxi driver.

Caught in the soft backseat, and fastened again, Nora, as expected, quickly fall asleep after all this emotional meat grinder, this time she tightly overslept until the end of the trip.

* * *

The next day, JD officially became Nora's guardian. Bud Dean was invited to the meeting, but he didn’t deign to appear.


	5. you are grieving

Martha wasn't very happy, as was Heather. The tenth of October has already gone, and Nora still didn't go to school, she missed a month and a half of the last school year. For mom, this would be a real tragedy, Nora perfectly understood this, but she still couldn't estimate the true extent of the disaster, she didn't follow the numbers on the calendar, she had long been lost in weeks.

But whatever the day, every day was just an overwhelming work. Courts, endless process of collecting of references, trips around the city, all these piles of papers, where she and her father had to put their signature. Nora had long getting the hang on faking handwriting, especially mom's, but now she didn't need her handwriting. Thinking bitterly about this, the girl over and over again watched as JD complete the documents and signed before she decided to sign for him once. His almost block squiggles turned out to be decently copied from the second time. And Nora even figured out what to tell him when he finds out about it - _mom taught me_. He would have completely forgiven her.

Actually, no one taught her this. Nora discovered this talent in herself at the age of nine, when she helped a classmate to fake a note from her parents, then she once forgot to give her mom some important statement from the school, and the signature was needed the next day, and the girl, afraid that she was scolded by both the teacher and mother, at her own risk, forged her mother’s signature, which for her at nine years old equated to a mortal trick. Mom was found out on the same day, quite by accident, but she didn't swear, she just looked at the signature, and said that she should make the tail in "S" more authentic.

_“I allow you to do this, but only as a last resort.” _She said with a smile, then stroking her head. _"If they catch you, I'll deny everything."_

Nora laughed with her, feeling enormous relief, and promised herself never do that again.

As soon as she went to middle school, and as soon as teen age catch up with her, mom's handwriting had to be faked almost always. At the age of twelve, Nora began to earn some pennies with the help of this. In high school, she already faked notes from teachers and the principal, in most cases for herself - this saved her from unnecessary stress. In the end, you want to leave classes, take a break from the nasty peers and the next notations from the teachers, you just write a note, give it to them and go.

That evening, when she, a third-grader, returned home with her mother, reluctantly telling her grandparents about this, they said with a grin that Veronica also knows how to fake handwriting and signatures. Sometimes Nora teased mom that it could make her lawyer life simply, but her mother didn't like to joke like that.

Unfortunately, applying for school wasn't so easy to fake. She had to go home, to her hometown, pick up documents from that high school, and then go to Westerburg High. But still it was necessary to pick up all things from their apartment before selling it. It makes her sick to even think about it. However, there was nothing to do.

So, they again went to another city in private with each other, now in the car that Heather lent them. Rather, she lent the car _to_ _Nora_, and not to her father. The girl now thought that she could bring a gift from home to her aunt, as a reminder of Veronica. Even if Heather didn't want any thanks from her, Nora couldn't use her kindness for nothing.

"Do you have a much of furniture?" Asked JD.

Aloud, Nora began to recall: the entire kitchen, a table in each room, two sofas - one large in the living room and the other in mom’s office, part-time bedroom, two beds - a double and a half, three more cabinets, four chests of drawers, two armchairs, three bookshelves...

“So, I see.” Her father interrupted. “Four trucks, no less. Well, I'll figure it out. My colleagues will help me."

“Blow up my apartment?” Nora blurted out, not mocking at all.

“Take it all out to our new home. When we'll have it, of course." JD shrugged.

_Our new home_. Nora every time felt uncomfortable when she thought about it. She still lived with Heather McNamara, although her parents managed to return from the trip, but, fortunately, Nora crossed with them as rarely as possible. She suspected that no one else loved her in this house except Aunt Heather. It was better not to check how it really is.

The first familiar places that appeared outside the window instilled in her a feeling of indescribable longing and despair. She shouldn't have come back here like that. If it weren’t for the man driving the Sedan, Nora would have driven into her hometown with her mother, with another fervent music, and not to take all things and leave here forever into some unimaginable hole. Nora glanced at JD, who was driving instead of mom. He wasn't in the mood either. It appeared extremely rarely, and only in the presence of his daughter. He had no one to talk to anymore; no one was able to understand him. Nora least of all wanted to bear such an honor on herself, but to be honest, she was also missing JD, because he had answers to questions that continued to collect over time in her sore head, and someday would be asked to him.

It was an early evening when they stopped at an apartment building closer to the center. Previously, until the death of grandparents, all Sawyers lived a little further from here, in a more spacious apartment, but then mother, in order to get rid of longing after the loss of her parents, suggested moving. The money from the old apartment was just enough to buy a new one, not so spacious, but in a more elite area, where all the important institutions were within walking distance. And now moving again. Nora remembered how it was the last time. Carriage, placement, and cleaning seemed never to end. Now she would have to plunge into it again with her sick head. But JD lived this, she reminded herself. He wouldn't have experienced such discomfort, wouldn't have expressed such reluctance with his entire look, if it hadn't been Veronica Sawyer's apartment.

Nora opened the door, and then stepped over the threshold. Everything has changed here. Yes, things were in their places, and even the dust really didn't have time to settle, but the atmosphere itself changed. An inhabited apartment, without unnecessary luxury, but certainly not poor. However... empty. Cold. Without owners. Nora sighed; taking off her shoes, and then turned away and came across the face of JD, who couldn't cross the threshold.

“Come in,” The daughter nodded to him. He brought her into the house of Bud Dean, introducing his demons to her, but now it was her turn.

JD, catching her tired and longing look, entered and closed the door behind him.

"I'm in the kitchen. I’ll look for something that’s not rotten.” Nora rolled up her sleeves with a sigh. "The sofa in the living room pulls out. Should I bring bed linen now?

"No. I would like to see the rooms.” The man hung his coat on the same hanger at the entrance.

Nora flicked a switch, and for a moment, the apartment seemed to come to life. Yes, it became light and warm, but now the dust has become more noticeable. And then came the smells from the kitchen. The bread is moldy.

“Our...” She sighed, immediately realizing that now there was nothing of _ours_, that all this was only _hers_, even for a while. "It’s better to get the trash out now. God..."

In the refrigerator lay the cottage cheese that had already starting to turn. It fell into a trash bag with a loaf. Licorice sticks with a cherry-strawberry flavor remained in a vase of sweets. Nora lost her appetite, remembering how mom takes a bunch in her hand to deal with them on the way. Some of them were in the glove compartment of the Ford. And its stayed there...

"There is porridge. Granola?" JD shook the box, frowning doubtfully.

“This is mine, mom doesn’t eat this...” Nora held out her hand, and then once again bit her lip. JD tensed too. It was time to start to watch her language. "I'm eating this. Before school. Have you tried?"

“Rarely gross stuff.” Said the father.

“It makes no sense to sweeten your life before the next shitty school day.” The girl muttered, rummaging in a closet with utensils. “There should be pasta in the closet where you found the granola."

"A long box? Here is left for one serving."

“I'm still not really hungry” Nora shrugged. "You can cook for yourself. If I change my mind, I’ll eat granola."

“Okay.” JD slid the box back. “Is there nothing else in the fridge?”

"Jam and maybe frozen greens could remain there. If you want meat, look for a mouse that starves to death in the midst of this horror."

_Are you going to shut up or not?_ Nora slammed the door of the closet too loudly, angry at herself. Now, stop being distracted by the kitchen. Stop pretending brave. Stop avoiding the inevitable. _Just do it already._

“Let's go into... mom's room.” She clenched her jaw, not wanting to look at JD, but knowing for sure that he was also struggling with courage.

Nora didn't love her father, she was afraid, still couldn't forgive him and couldn't understand why, in the end, mom loved him so much, but they had to take this step together.

The door gave to easily, but it felt like Nora pushed aside a brick wall. She flicked the switch, and then pursed her lips, holding back a lump of tears inside.

Mom cleaned up before leaving, she, as a responsible housewife, put everything in place. However, JD was not struck by this, but by the fact that all her things, all dressers, all coatings - everything was in blue tones. It was a great color, Nora loved it, and there were a lot of dark blue things in her wardrobe. She and her mother dressed the same way, and said the same thing, and loved the same things... They were one and the same. What kind of world was this where no one was destined to have a long life next to a loved one?

JD went closer to the photographs on the desk, ran a hand over mom’s chair...

Nora ran out and jumped into her room, slamming the door. Mom asked her to be careful with walls, but who cares now? There was no mom, and soon there won’t be her home either!

Nora kicked her school backpack lying at the door, and then threw a small mug into the wall, which didn't break by some miracle, having landed on her desk and staggered a stack of textbooks. The room was dark, but Nora didn't want to see anything, and didn't want to be visible, didn't want to exist.

She looked around, spotting on the wall a large blue fan, once presented by her grandmother. All kinds of trinkets were inserted in the fan between the large rods - movie booklets, postcards, photographs, all kinds of notes so as not to forget important things. From childhood, Nora love to collect junk in her room - all sorts of symbolic things that reminded her of good times. It seemed that all this was like three years ago, in some other life, and now it was all so meaningless. These times were part of that life. And now there would be no them, and Nora would never be able to remember them with a smile.

She tore off the fan, tearing a decent chunk from it, and threw it right on the floor, breaking rods with bestial anger, tearing booklets and notes into pieces. In the process, she somehow turned her chair on the floor, bruised a healthy leg, and then picked up a mug and threw it to the side again. A sudden loud ringing made her startle for a couple of seconds and only then look back.

The mirror crashed. It was small, square and was a thirteenth birthday present instead of the old small table mirror. Nora came closer to the fragments, because she almost immediately remembered that a strip with photos from the photo booth was attached to his frame. She and her mother went to the amusement park on her birthday, where they spent the last dollars in cabin.

A particularly large piece cracked under her foot, Nora walked around it and, rummaging along the floor, tangling her fingers in a soft pile, found a strip. There was a drop of blood on the tape, then Nora realized that she had cut her finger a little, and scolded herself, trying to wipe the blood off. An imperceptible trace remained in the dark. Nora flicked a switch to make sure she wiped everything off, then looked at the photographs again.

Mom liked fooling around. She asked to take away that photo where the tongue sticks out, but Nora, of course, didn't do that. She hung it in a top place, as always, as the next symbol, reminiscent of a fun little time.

Hands shook; she couldn't raise her hands on this junk. Although no, it shouldn't have been called junk. Looking around the room, Nora sobbed, realizing that she was crying again, but crying was normal, it was necessary, Martha explained this to her well. Clutching a strip of photographs to her chest, Nora allowed herself to burst into tears in her voice. She stood in the middle of her own cozy room, which now became the epicenter of devastation. She could clean up here for some time, collect her things, spend her last days in her hometown, say goodbye to the house in a normal way, with property, as well as with mom...

But she didn't want to say goodbye. She wanted to return everything, she would give her life for it, give all her talents and labors, give her memory, and give anything she wanted! Unfortunately, she there was too late, so she perfectly understood it was impossible, there was nothing to be done. There was an only ash in three vases remains from mom. Sand. Dust.

Nora squeezed the photos in her fist, filling them with tears. Here she is - mom. She was alive two weeks ago. She hugged her tightly, her heart beat, she giggled like a girl, and frowned like a serious middle-aged lawyer. Why did everything happen so abruptly? Although it would be inhuman to wish everything continues for a long time. Mom didn't feel pain, she died immediately, Marta hinted at it, and then JD brought some reports from the hospital, and Nora looked at them... as much as she could. Mom didn’t understand anything, most likely. She didn't have time to understand or think. Nora would like to remember something beyond the moment the car crashed into them. Unfortunately, she couldn't.

She sat on the bed, still tearing their last photographs. It was even better, no matter how wild it sounded. Here Aunt Heather was seriously ill, her strength left slowly, she fought with it, coped with weakness and pain, and even managed to live... but was it life? Doesn't Aunt Heather ever want to end this just in one moment in order to end the torment of her and her loved ones? Wouldn’t she want to be remembered as healthy and strong, and not weak and old? She was probably such a beautiful young woman, Nora would like to see the color of her hair. Probably as light as her thin eyebrows. Aunt didn't like her current look, it was obvious even to a blind man. She really wanted to be remembered by another. And how mom could act herself in such a situation?

She wouldn’t like this, certainly - all this pity and weakness. She was the one who certainly would like to be remembered in the prime of life, the same full of energy and strong-willed.

Like in the photos.

Nora raised her chin, then went to her desk through the mess, rummaged through the drawers, but couldn't find photographs from her long rest. Apparently she gave album back to mother. And all the albums were in the living room.

Nora left the room, still sobbing, slamming the door again. She ran to one of the bookshelves, opened the lower compartment and began to sort through the boxes until she found one huge one, filled with different albums. First, Nora pulled out a new box, and then she noticed another in the corner - grandmother's and grandfather's, from their old house. Mom closed it here, and never once got it for all these years. There was her former life, Sherwood, from which she was hiding.

Nora pulled out this box as well. She suddenly realized that she wouldn't hide from her previous life, because now only this keeps her on the ground.

Hearing a crash, she turned toward her mother's room. Did JD destroy everything too? Was it just as painful? What was he thinking now?

Nora got to her feet, for some reason knocked on the door, because before, when they lived here with mom, it was customary to knock in the door, and this habit made itself felt.

“JD.” She called, looking inside.

He turned over mom's table. Her papers, which she anxiously collected and arranged, scattered across the floor. One of the frames was lying right there. Gritting her jaw, Nora walked over and picked up a photograph, and then looked in her father's face... Just as broken and as evil as hers. Nora handed this photograph to him.

"Take it. Look."

He took the frame from her hands. There was a mom on vacation with grandma, about ten years ago. Her last trip to Florida was just before she opened her own law office. It was a good moment for her, but if mom was no longer there, this doesn't mean reminder of that time should have been destroyed or damaged.

But something had to be broken. They both needed to let off steam, they had such a temper. If JD had hiding a gun under the desk in their kitchen, Nora wouldn't have blamed him, for God's sake. She herself lacked this heavy weight in her hands at this very moment.

"Do you need a cabinet table?" Nora asked, looking at the upturned furniture at her feet.

"No. And you?" Asked the father in a hoarse voice.

“I just have one.” Nora said.

She kicked right on the counter, then tried to pull out a box of papers, but tore off the handle. The reaction of JD wasn't long in coming - he gave a hit along the sidewall. And if Nora hadn't known that he had prostheses instead of legs, she would have been surprised, but now she wouldn't have flinched when a wide crack went along the thick sidewall. Another crash - sidewall broke exactly in half. The table barely slipped on the floor, Nora barely stood on her feet, then tore off the other handles from the drawers. Then she punched one of the boxes, tried to pull it out, and hissed in pain, again looking at her finger. The cut is damaged. Blood flowed again.

"Enough for you. You better get out of here.”JD said, barely able to keep a calm tone of voice.

"Then let's go together!" Nora growled, and then straightened, exhaling all the air from her lungs. “Because I have something else to show you, before we smash this room as well.”

JD politely ignored the presence of “_as well_” in her remark.

“Let's go.” Nora stepped over the chair, walked around mom’s clean carpet, strewn with business contracts, and went into the living room. "Sit on the sofa."

She took the first box of albums, a little heavy, but didn't accept any help, just put it next to her father on the sofa. The same thing happened with the second box.

“Here.” She pointed to the old box. “Grants archives. Maybe you will remember something. And here,” she pointed to a newer box, “seventeen years of my life. Make up with it. Oh and..." She picked up the strip from the photo booth from the floor. "This is our... our last photos together. This is mine, but I will give it to you, for the sake of exception. Then you will bring it back to me.” Her lips trembled treacherously again, but her fingers ached too much to continue beating her mother’s office desk. “I'll bring you linen now. And let's agree that we will not take anger out on anything else in this apartment."

“I also have a suggestion how we can get even” JD raised his red eyes, shining with despair. Finally, Nora saw this brilliance, which reflected his inner fire. “As soon as we return to Sherwood, we will surely get even. But not here, I agree with you on this. You should have dinner, but apparently you're not hungry. Better go to bed."

“We have to tidy up the room.” Nora shook her head. "And pack things up."

“We can do that later.” Father breathed wearily, not so red and panting anymore. "We have a plenty of time."

Well, okay. Nora looked away and went to her room. There was still glass, fragments and pieces of a fan, crumpled booklets and sheets. One textbook came off the cover, which was very unfortunate. She feels pity for the books even more if for a mirror. Damn priorities.

Nora fell onto her bed, feeling a crumpled sweater under her back. Oh yeah. Before dressing, she changed clothes hastily, threw things on the bed and thought that she should quickly clean up upon arrival home so that mom wouldn't see the mess.

Well, chaos reigned in the room and some blouse there was least noticeable. And why she needs to hide evidence now, what was a point for a hurry, for what?

Nora threw her pencil case into the switch, hit right away. The light in the room turned off. She turned off too.

* * *

JD didn't remember exactly when he fell asleep. He wasn't in time, it lasted so slowly and quietly alone with all the photographs. He considered the moments of life that Veronica and Nora had without him, admired them, while guilt devoured him from within more and more.

His last memory associated with Veronica is the threshold of the school. She takes out a cigarette and smirks, crooked her face in pain. Even with all this bruising and soot on her face, with this disheveled hair where a couple of shreds were missing, she was a beauty, his ideal. The last thing he wanted to see was hers. And he only remembered this, rejoicing that his wish had come true.

She was in pain, but then he couldn't think about it. He'll die, and her life will become easier. She herself showed it to him, which means that everything will be in order. So everything will be alright.

And here is her face. Photos taken after. At first, it was all the same young, but tired - apparently, the little child in her arms didn't give a minute of rest. Of course, she enrolled in law, and, of course, she graduated with honors, because she was Veronica Sawyer. She outlived Chandler, Kelly, Sweeney and him, her first boyfriend, and then lived until the end of the school year in this flawed Westerburg, which she defended at the cost of her life. Of course, the university was no more harmful to her. Even with a girl in her arms.

She never showed that she doesn't love Nora. In each photo she pressed girl to her chest, kissed, hugged her, although, being small, Nora was in the most terrible way like him, JD himself. Except the nose, of course. Nothing will eclipse Veronica’s nose, it’s stronger than his dirty heredity. However, it didn't seem that Veronica though about all this terrible similarity as if something nasty.

She loved him to the end, so was her daughter said. Because of this, her selflessness looked even more incredible, Veronica was even more amazing than he thought, because he was wrong again, thought that she gave up on him, like his mother, like his father, like the whole world. No, Veronica loved him, and she tried to the end to change something. She almost succeeded. Her principles and morality were stronger than damn love. She again chooses brains over heart. Isn't that why he fell in love with her? So why then was he so disappointed?

Nora, as it turned out, loved the dark blue spacious clothes. She, as if hiding in it, stood alone among her classmates, especially in recent years. However, the girl was capable of a smile. Next to her mother, she smiled often, almost always. She had his slanting mischievous gaze, despite her mother’s big eyes, and, of course, her groovy smile, which reminded JD of how he and Veronica had sincerely had fun, thinking over sophisticated plans for revenge. In the family circle, the daughter was comfortable, but not very in society. This JD could well understand.

They also didn't have many trips. It seems that they were on the southeast coast once, one thin photo album was dedicated to this. Of course, in all the photographs Veronica and Nora was hiding from the sun. Sensitive pale skin, all the same as before.

JD didn't even realize that the albums were over. He looked at his watch, and now he sighed. He had to get up in two hours.

He didn’t even pull out the sofa, just dropped his head on the pillow, and then fell asleep.

It seemed to him that he dozed off for a short while, but when he opened his eyes, the man realized that the sun was already shining through the window, and his daughter was barely audible in the kitchen. Today she was in a sweater with short sleeves, so when Nora reached up for some box, abrasions were very noticeable on her hand - both old, already tightened, and new ones on fingers and knuckles. JD immediately thought about Dunnstock would charge him for this, but, in fact, he himself didn't like that his daughter had no more ways to vent her anger. If he knew another way, then they wouldn't be here now - alone in the apartment when it was necessary to move (run from the tragedy).

JD sat quietly, feeling his hips hurt because he didn't bother to unfasten the prostheses for the night, and looked at his watch. He did quite well in all the right places.

Nora noticed that he woke up. She was going to say something, most likely a greeting, but she overcame herself, frowning thoughtfully.

“I woke up early.” She said. "I cleaned our rooms. There, on the table there is a box with different documents, I already found my birth certificate, now we need to get your documents for the court. We can go to school, just need don't forget the garbage.

Nora looked more cheerful, she clearly slept, although they were sleeping, if think about it, not so much. Only her shoulders were down, and she spoke reluctantly. Her mood was even worse than before. Now the man noticed how much she was different from that naughty girl in the photographs. She was beaten and exhausted.

“Have you had a breakfast?” Asked JD.

The daughter shook her head.

“Is there enough of these nasty cereal for two of us?”

Now she nodded.

"Let's eat them and go."

It seems that he got one more little meaning, another little dream - to see her healthy. Not exhausted, not hurting herself to take out feelings. Now they could start from the smallest.

First, the damn granola would do.


	6. you are leaving

JD silently agreed to wait outside while she pulled things out of the locker and said goodbye to friends. Unlike her mother, Nora didn’t break off relations with them forever. Even though she only knew her friends for seven years — since they returned to Ohio from another state — she managed to become attached to them. She didn’t have many friends who were really good people. And, remaining as good as they were, they perfectly understood her, but this didn’t brighten up the sadness from separation.

“After all, are you still going to go to a lawyer?” Asked Sharon, a low and caulked girl. She was her best friend and the most persistent girl of all the girls who Nora only knew.

“Yes, how could it be otherwise.” Nora sighed. “So, see you at the university.”

Sharon looked at her with the same longing and sympathy. Nora didn’t want to be pitied; she suffered even more from this. Maybe if they stopped feeling sorry for her, she would have stopped feeling sorry for herself. To comfort Sharon, she smiled uncertainly, and then closed the locker. All her friends (two classmates) had already left; they were left alone in the same corridor.

“I'll call you.” A friend promised. “Or even write.”

“Better not sit down at the letter.” Nora grinned louder, shaking her head.

“That's right.” Sharon shrugged. “But you cannot hide from my calls.”

If Sharon wanted to, she would get her out of anywhere. Once she misses her call, a friend will rush to Sherwood. Nora hugged her tightly, feeling her eyes fill with tears. Still, she would hardly have been able to have some fun someday. And she would hardly be able to find someone to replace Sharon.

“Can your father let you go on any vacation or weekend?” She asked.

“He is my guardian, not his father.” Nora answered.

“And who is he to you?” Sharon frowned slightly. “You just look alike, but he doesn't look like your... mom.”

Nora looked down.

“You're right, he is my biological father, but... I don’t call him that. You know yourself why. We all thought he was dead. Although he couldn’t move himself about ten years or something, and then... I know that he really couldn’t appear, but... I still can’t believe that he couldn’t do otherwise. If I didn’t have legs, if my mother locked me up, but I had a father somewhere, I would hire some dumb, careless driver, kidnap myself and go, just to see him even out of the corner of my eye.”

“But you didn’t know at all what he is. Besides, you thought he was different, you saw him differently, I remember. Maybe he thought so too.”

Bud Dean really hassled him all his life. Nora promised herself to think about it later, but for now she nodded to herself.

“And please eat.” Sharon gripped her slender wrists. “It’s like I haven’t seen you for a month, you were so exhausting.”

“It's because of pain and medication.” Nora dismissed. “I will get better.”

“Of course, everything will definitely get better.” Sharon, despite her restraint, kissed her on both cheeks. “That's how we live. See you.”

“See you.”

And they parted in different directions, as if tomorrow they would have met here in the same place. Nora tried not to remember that she wouldn’t return to this city anymore, that she wouldn’t see her friend until college.

She loaded the box with things and textbooks into the back seat, sat next to it, this time giving up the front seat. Now she realized that she didn’t like to ride in front. JD didn’t ask anything, and he didn’t have to. They stopped at another office, where they spent two hours sorting out all the documents for the property, then they had to go to the bank to close Veronica’s account and transfer all the money to her daughter’s account. And, of course, it was necessary to call in mom’s office, to pick up her things and papers from there. For all these hours of driving around the city, Nora was decently distracted from her thoughts, she was mired in a boring fuss with paper, so when there was a reason for a smile, she couldn’t resist. And a smile could only be caused by a ride at ‘7-eleven’ after a meager and, as usual, nasty breakfast in the morning.

Nora took a chocolate chip cookie and a large glass of cherry slush. She didn’t spare money, because now, in addition to the savings on her account that mom had been saving from her birth, a few thousand bucks appeared from her mom’s account. And this is not counting the interest accumulated over many years. Today, Nora allowed herself to relax, but, of course, didn’t want to spend all the dollars. She saved up for study.

JD, however, paid for it himself. And he bought two hot dogs, one of which he gave to her.

“You won’t be full of cookies.” He said, slowly swallowing an ice coke.

Nora would like to tell him that she isn’t hungry, and also that it isn’t necessary to take care of her, but said nothing. She was recommended to eat normally at least once a day. Normally means at least something hot and, preferably, meat. The slippery paste, as JD called granola in the morning, could hardly be called a normal meal. Even a hot dog with a slush was easier to call food. He smelled so alluring, so appetizing, and tasted just divine. Up to this point, Nora didn’t suspect she was, in fact, terribly hungry.

A call from Martha found them on their way home. JD set up a speakerphone so that Dunnstock could hear his daughter, and so that she wouldn’t again make hints of his incapacity. He guessed correctly, Martha hasn’t said a single bad word to him since JD said that he was putting on a loud one.

“I made a deal with Dawson.” She said with rush. “The sales contract will be drawn up and concluded, when you return, and you can transfer money right now...”

“Wait aunt, take your time.” Nora interrupted her before her father could do it. “You mean that...”

“House is yours!” She exclaimed. “But he overpriced thirty thousand. Then he sells it with furniture.”

Nora exchanged a glance with the man, about to ask him a question, and then she realized that he was going to ask the same thing. The girl nodded and, thus, they understood each other without words.

“Let him take the furniture with them.” JD answered. “We’ll take Veronica’s from the apartment.”

Martha remained silent for a couple of seconds before she spoke again, her voice already trembling. “It’s very good. When you coming back?”

“All I have to do is to settle petty matters, and then go to my city to deal with my work. And, of course, here you need to load the furniture, then bring it to Sherwood.”

Nora looked at her father with a little apprehension when he spoke about his hometown. She still remembered their last trip. Who knows, if she hadn’t been there, could Bud kill his son? Or JD would have killed him. In any case, she could be left without a guardian and again say goodbye to the newfound dad. Of course, she would like him to remain alive and free.

“I'll take a day off on Friday and come for Nora.” Marta suggested. “Can you schedule the delivery of furniture for this day? We will go to Sherwood, and you can go to your city so as not to lose time.”

Nora didn't like it. Of course, even less she would have liked to spend her time traveling around the state, but she had to go with her father this time too. Or persuade him not to mess with Bud alone.

“Great.” JD answered. “But you shouldn’t waste your time. I could figure it out myself, I don’t mind my time.

“I’m talking about a girl should finally start going to school and settle down at home, rather than wandering around the cities.” Finally, discontent flashed again in Martha's voice.

“I don’t mind wandering around the cities if it concerns me and my mother.” Nora said, again annoyed that she was mentioned in the third person in her presence.

“Hush, she's right.” JD turned her attention to himself, speaking in a calm tone. If he was angry at someone, it was himself. “You don’t have to hang around with me anymore. We have completed the most important part, otherwise I can do without you.”

Nora was offended by this even more. She sat back and turned to the window. She didn’t say a word, didn’t even say goodbye to Aunty Martha, because of which she later blamed herself all night. In the end, Martha didn’t deserve such an attitude towards herself just because she just really cared about her. The rest of the day Nora really didn’t leave home. She collected things in a hundred different boxes and bags, emptied the kitchen first, then the living room. Most of the time was spent collecting all the contents of shelves - boxes with albums, folders, books, other sets and things, both old and new.

Emptying her room by nightfall, Nora went with a sigh to mom’s room. She was very carefully to her things, because half of it was going to be move to her room. It wouldn’t have been needed to JD anyway. Cosmetics, clothes, old photographs, and most of the decor. Nora wanted to hang Mom’s blue curtains in her new room, and give her own to JD - dark enough not to let in the sun. Here it was needed, because her room was on the sunny side, and she hated to wake up because of the sun earlier than she need to.

Sorting out mother's things made her once again shed many tears. Some was left by mom in prominent places, obviously she want to take them immediately upon returning home. So Nora didn’t want to remove all this, as if the room was a museum, so Nora step over herself every time. When this room remained empty, it was already night on the street. It remains only to move the furniture to roll up the carpet, wash the floors here and unscrew the light bulb, but there was no strength to do that left at all. JD returned soon, he was tired, also couldn’t deal with these matters, but insisted for his daughter postpones all of this for tomorrow. Nora had to force him to put off his sleep for later.

“Will you go to Bud again?” She asked bluntly. “You told Martha that you would return to your hometown because of business matters.”

“Bud left town that day when there was a custody meeting.” JD said with a grin. “I think he is hiding from the bailiffs. But I remember all the addresses so they can find him and seal fraction of things that we have left. My old motorcycle and his car will certainly be on this list. We always moved light, nothing worthwhile was left. And the part of the company that is assigned to me will be sold. I'm going to the city for this - to settle the deal with the sale. And in order to meet with an old partner, get a job with him. After that I will return to Sherwood. It will take as much time as it took here.”

“That is, are you not going to meet Bud?” Nora locked at him sleepily.

“No.” with a smile, JD gave a shorter answer. “Of course, if the bailiffs are not forced to. But, if necessary, I will go to him only in their presence. And no one else will fight or shoot, I promise.”

“And if they get anything on him? Or on you?”

“Nothing can be getting on me. I can clean up for myself. Bud can do it even better. He covered both of us.” JD bowed his back, resting his elbows on his knees. He wanted his eyes to be on the same level as his daughter’s. “Don't worry, Nora. Everything will be okay. You will not have time to miss me, I will return to the city, and no more stupid papers and trips, except, perhaps, only according to my work.”

“And how often will you leave?” She asked, not having time to bite her tongue in time.

“Once a month for sure. Depends on how many orders will be there. But even now I can’t be sure of anything, so you shouldn’t even think about it. Go to sleep. Tomorrow back on a trip.”

“I can get enough sleep in Martha’s car.” Nora sighed.

“You won’t get enough sleep.” JD answered confidently.

So far, she couldn’t get rid of this new phobia, it was well known to both of them. So father was right, she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in the car, but his confidence still make her angry.

“Come on, it's too late, and tomorrow there will be a lot of fuss with things.” Father calmly watched as she almost gritted her teeth.

If Nora had some more strength, she would have argued, or at least snapped once. Instead, she returned to her empty room, and lay down in bed to sleep here for the last time.

Friday really turned out to be difficult. The fuss began almost early in the morning, the loading of furniture took a lot of time, Martha just managed to arrive before the end of it. Some things were loaded into her poor car.

During the gathering into mom’s room, when her closet was carried out, someone hooked a window sill, a piece broke off, revealing a sufficiently large hole under the windowsill that was invisible before. Nora noticed in this small hole, or rather, a niche, there was something white. She pulled out an envelope and another bag with something small and square inside.

“Sorry.” The mover looked down. “But this is a trifling matter, we can fix it.”

“It’s nothing, we just move.”Nora said, not showing them what they managed to pull out.

Still apologizing, the movers carried the cupboard out of the room in parts. While JD was sorting out below, and Martha was commanding a detachment of movers, Nora was left alone for a while, she helped men here in the apartment. So, taking advantage of her short loneliness, she looked into the envelope. As she thought, a nest egg. Having counted a large stack of bills, Nora was surprised to understand that her mother hid ten thousand dollars. And, of course, she almost burst into tears. She seemed to have received a gift from the other world. It was necessary to give JD to put them on the bill... Or she had to somehow give it Heather and Martha for their care. If they don’t want to, shove it around the house or into cars...

“Nora!” Marta just appeared in the apartment. “Is there still much left?”

The girl managed to hide the envelope under a jacket, and pressed the bag to her, not having time to figure out where to put it before the woman looked at her.

“What have you got there?” She asked.

Nora looked into the bag. There was some very old notebook, thick because of the scribbled pages.

“My notebook.” She answered. “I got it from mom.”

Martha didn’t even check. Nodding sympathetically, she held out her hand.

“Apparently, everything is furnished. We have to go. Where are your bags?”

With one large suitcase for travel, they went downstairs, having previously closed an empty apartment. Nora had gone around all the rooms before, checked all the switches. Not in order to understand what she had forgotten, but in order to remember everything better, to look one more time at these walls, and to relive all those moments that she saw. Aunt Martha waited patiently for her, although she was in a hurry, it was noticeable.

Downstairs, JD was already waiting at his car.

“Good luck to you.” He said. “Wish you success in school.”

“I can go with her to the principal.” Marta grabbed her by the shoulders.

“No, I'll go myself...”

“She can handle it herself.”

She and JD responded at once, and then just stopped talking again, raising their eyes to each other again.

“Herself? She never went to Westerburg, she didn’t even see it!” Exclaimed Martha. “Not everyone is as independent as you.”

“I am independent.” Nora rapped out. “And that was my decision. I'm going to graduation class. So, thanks, aunt, but I’ll go to the principal alone, as everyone goes.”

Aunt Martha probably thought too little time had passed since the funeral, and she, ‘the sick girl’, was still struggling and being sad and couldn’t managed with anything. She was right in everything except the last. Nora manages. Bad, but manages. And she had to continue in order to forget about these difficulties, so sadness would pass, and not corrode her.

“I'll give you a ride to school anyway.” Martha insisted. “And I will bring you there every day. It’s on my way anyway, the middle school is nearby, and I bring my son there.”

JD turned away to face the steering wheel, rolling his eyes. Nora didn’t notice that she wanted to _laugh_ while watching at father. She just thought she wanted to do the same, but JD was the first to do it, and, God, he almost made her smile. Immediately she was not quite fun, she drew herself.

“Good luck to you too.” Nora told him goodbye. She almost added ‘come back soon’.

It was still hard for her to imagine what it was like to live with JD. She knew that he was unsociable, probably untidy, impulsive, takes out his anger with his fists, and therefore it was dangerous to live with him, and then she realized that calling him all these words, she also spoke about herself - all this suited her. But she somehow lived calmly, (almost) didn’t kill anyone and didn’t demolish the apartment. Maybe it was mom work, she knew how to restrain her. But, nevertheless, would survive the house just two of them? JD listened to her, he was neat with her. He could reassure her, as he reassured her in Bud’s house, he answered her questions, somehow cared for her, making her have breakfast and lunch. And that time, when they broke the mom’s table together, he stopped and took care of her again. So she could make him calm down. And, all the same, all this confused, because it was only her guesses.

At first, the building completely disappeared from view before Nora managed to think that she would never see this place again. She struggled with a rather tangible desire to get out of the car and refuse to leave, she wanted to stay here, walk along the streets with Sharon, even if there was no mood for fun. She even wanted to go to school. Just being here, living at home, sitting every night on that sofa, at least without mom, but with her memory.

Nora pulled a notebook out of the bag and opened it. It was a very old diary of blue color with floral patterns and metal gilded corners, which had already darkened for a long time.

_"Dear Diary"._

Mom's handwriting. Sweeping, patterned, not placed in lines, but in different slopes, then falling, then rising. If mother was beside herself, she wrote half a page, but in a calm state she tried to write more accurately. She had several of her own handwriting styles; they changed depending on her mood.

Nora felt a lump in her throat again. She ran her fingers along the lines pressed into the paper, even put it to her nose and breathed in deeper the almost disappeared smell of ink and an echo of some unfamiliar perfume.

_“August 29, 1989. The last diary didn’t use for long. Summer was too calm.”_

The last days before her graduation year! Then she still lived in Sherwood, but about to leave here... As long as Nora herself remembered, her mother didn’t keep diaries. She told everything to her, her daughter. Even when they lived with their grandparents, Veronica didn’t speak with her parents, but with her child, sharing any experiences and news with her. Then Nora began to do the same. And having each other, they never needed diaries. Nora didn’t even wonder to whom her mother had talked before. Only now she realized that mom had even then preferred not to speak with her parents.

Nora herself know don’t enough about Sherwood and how her mother lived there. No one loved talking about that last year. And now all the answers were in her hands.

Nora began to read, somehow forgetting that the best part of her life was left behind. Sooner or later, she would have experienced it, as her mother had experienced it once.


	7. you are open to truth

In Ohio, the rains didn’t stop for a second. Or it’s just started again. No difference.

Nora was a little frightened by the thunder clap outside the window. For a second, she came back that day, September twenty-ninth, when mom's Ford scuttled along the highway through a downpour, and Led Zeppelin played loudly in the receiver. Drops still flowed down the glass, obeying the wind. Nora raised a trembling hand, ran a finger over the drop.

“Aunt Martha, What time is it?” She asked.

Dunnstock made the radio quieter looked at her as if she had forgotten that the girl was sitting here.

“It’ll be twelve soon, dear.” She said. “Are you comfortable to read? You can ruin your eyes.”

Nora dropped her gaze back to the old notebook. She had already reached half, managed to read out stories about an evil bitch named Heather Chandler, about how bright and lively Heather McNamara was, and how poisonous and cowardly Heather Duke was. Almost the whole of September has passed. And among the entries full of hatred and regret, there were several even and uncertain lines about Martha and a couple of pages where was described with admiration a young man, who at first had no name, but in which Nora recognized JD immediately. He took a brutal care for ‘Kelly and Sweeney, horny morons’, and in one conversation with mom immediately introduced himself to her as a dark horse with a wealth of knowledge, a sharp of tongue and a intriguing look. Sometimes Nora even forgot that she was reading about her parents, it seemed such a far and alien event. Mom, of course, hasn’t changed much since then, she still has the same imagination, resourcefulness and an impressive vocabulary... Or rather, she _was_ had all of it.

Nora slammed the diary a couple of times to catch her breath, even cried once, but in the end, she always returned to reading.

A note about their first night with JD made her breathe heavily. Nora remembered how she once made rough calculations when she was to be conceived. At the end of September. She already assumed when this chaos began, which drove her family out of the city. The calculations coincided with mom’s notes, but it all started much earlier. Even before meeting with JD.

And almost immediately, she read another note made in barely legible letters scattered with excitement. Few could understand Veronica’s handwriting, especially when she wrote like this, but her daughter always understood. She understood it now, unfortunately. And she found out that her parents had a body count.

* * *

It was half-past twelve when Martha had to stop the car. Nora nearly fell out of the cabin, almost panting from panic. She muttered to herself incoherent words, almost hysteria. Martha was very scared, she led her to the side of the road, set her down under a roadside tree, gave her a drink of water. Dunnstock thought Nora was panicked because of being in the car. She saw how she was acting from the very beginning of trip.

“Has this happened to you already?” The woman asked, but received no answer.

Nora was still crying, clenching her fists and continuing to whisper ‘Why, why, why’. It was completely useless to ask her anything. Martha already wanted to call JD, ask him, tell him. Maybe if there was such a panic attack, he knew when it would end and how to make Nora come to her senses, or, if there wasn’t, he should have known about it. Even if Martha didn’t want to tell him about this.

She had to sit under the tree for about twenty minutes, until the sobs didn’t stop at all. Nora sat and looked at the road with a blind eye, she wasn’t here. And yet, in her eyes there was no loss, she was mad, just damn mad. This led Martha to the idea of Nora had come to her senses. “Nora?” She called.

The girl looked at her, slowly returning to reality.

Dunnstock sighed in relief.

“Nora, how often does this happen with you?” She asked again. “Can I help? Maybe some more water? Or bring you a sedative? Where you left it?”

“I don't need anything.” She shook her head. “I'm almost fine. Trust me. Just... ” Her eyes filled with tears again. “I don’t know how to live forward. If mom was around, if she could explain to me... How can I live with JD? How to look at him now? What am I supposed to think? Just when I’m starting to understand at least something, everything always starts collapses right away and turns upside down...”

“You can always come to me and Heather. In any second. And you know it perfectly.” Martha pursed her lips, trying to keep herself in control. “If he does something bad, or says something bad, you have someone to go to. You're not on your own, honey.”

Nora, looking at her, shook her head. “You don't know him.” She said quietly. “No one knew him like my mother did.”

Her voice trembled again. Martha reached to hug her. Nora, as usual, didn’t respond to the hug. The more time passed from the funeral, the more they know about what Nora is like because she came to her senses, and her real ‘Me’ was pretty strong different from the first impressions. Quite rarely, she showed her tears to others, at first she tried to restrain it in herself. Fortunately, Martha was able to convince her that crying is even useful. Her medical certificate helped convince the girl. And Nora was as quiet, but willful as Veronica. And just as straightforward as Veronica was. Sometimes Martha didn’t know what was in her friend’s mind, and now she was also lost thinking about Nora. But she was also understanding, able to sympathize, couldn’t tolerate injustice. Sometimes Veronica’s name almost fell off the tongue instead of Nora’s name. Martha didn’t know how she was similar to her father. Maybe, it was an eye calling cold goosebumps. Veronica couldn’t teach her to glance like this, although sometimes she herself could look at a person with a way so deep that your knees began to tremble.

“It's only for nine months. And he’ll be on the road most of that time.” Martha tried to comfort her, as she comforted herself. “You won't have to mess with him for long.”

“How could he do that?” Nora exclaimed. “Why he was like that...”

“He was a loner, very bold and, I’ll admit, the pretty one. He liked her, and she fell in love with him. That’s a life itself.” Martha sighed. “On the first day they met, two boys hit us, they were just teenagers, and...”

Martha sighed, remembering Ram. His cheerful and carefree laugh, his energy, and his raging flame, impossible to tame. Broad-shouldered, strong and so funny.

“Then they picked on JD, and he insulted them, and then took out a gun.” Dunnstock noticed Nora's gaze. “We were scared too. He fired, but it was just a blank. Shot right in front of their faces, they fell, everyone screamed, but no one was hurt, except for the pride of the boys. So JD was kicked out of school that day, but he became a hero to some extent, because no one had ever strike those boys back, and in such a subtle way. And your mom, too, became interested in him, and then after some time they began to appear everywhere together. Now can you understand for a little why she could love him?”

Nora turned away from the road, and then nodded barely noticeably, not showing her face. She went in the rain instead of hiding under a tree.

“Nora, come back!” Martha immediately got to her feet. “You can get sick! And your immunity now isn’t so strong...”

The girl turned around, brushing raindrops and, probably, tears from her face. She was mad again.

“My mother was very smart, and she would have never approved anything illegal.” Nora growled. “So I still don’t understand why is this psycho was so attractive to her!”

“Yeah, Veronica was very smart. Smarter than anyone I know, and I’m unlikely to ever meet the same smart person... but she didn’t take the law so seriously. She believed that some laws were unfair and couldn’t control everyone. We talked about this sometimes, she liked to speculate on serious topics, and her every essay on social issues met... let's say, not quite hospitable. We were surrounded by such simple people who never thought about something as deeply as your mother did. In Westerburg things got even more complicated. And then she began to be friends with the most popular girls, then JD arrived in the city... This is a very long story, sweetheart.”

Martha also didn’t like to remember that year. He was filled with pain for her too. At first, she almost lost her best friend, then her beloved person died forever, then she herself tried to gone, and no one tried to stop her, no one tried to understand her, except Veronica. These were such difficult months. Some people cannot survive for years what they experienced then.

“I think they were alike.” Dunnstock spoke up.

Nora stepped closer to her, leaving the rain. She shuddered from the cold. Martha took off her sweater and threw it on her shoulders, continuing to speak.

“JD and your mom. I have noticed many times how they look at each other, how they talked to each other. Veronica couldn’t tolerate any boy longer than two minutes, and she spent whole days with your father. So he was smart enough for her, shared her views or was good enough in pretending to do that. And, of course, he didn’t care about everything else: the law, the society, some people. He was a loner, and your mother was also lonely, in a slightly different sense. They loved each other at least because of this, I think. But none of us can be sure, because you are right - no one knew him better than your mother did, and your mother was also a difficult person, although she tried to seem simple for the rest. If you want to ask him, it’s better to beware, because we don’t know how he will react.”

Nora nodded. She already knew this, and Martha was struck by terrible suggestions that Nora was already trying to ask and got an unpredictable reaction.

“We need to move on.” The girl remarked.

“We can stop at the nearest motel, wait there until morning. I think the movers will not mind.”

“No, we have to go home.” Nora clenched her fists, looking at three wagons, which rode behind them. The drivers were sitting at the wheel, and their followers went outside, smoking cigarettes, and looking at them, a woman and a girl, with curiosity. Maybe they were ready to rush to help, although Martha gave them a sign that nothing was needed. “This will not happen to me again.”

In confirmation of her words, the rain began to subside.

“I'm ready to stop at any of your words, dear. Remember that your health is more important than all these things and the money. I can talk to people, and I'm sure they will understand.” Martha took her arm.

“No.” Nora stopped her. “Nobody needs to say anything, and you don't need to worry either. Just go ahead. I'll get a sedative and maybe get some sleep.”

Martha had to come to terms. They got into the car, the girl really immediately climbed into her bag for pills, takes several at once, without even washing them with water. Sitting down in her seat, she didn’t look out the window for another three minutes, and didn’t pick up that old notebook, for some reason, familiar to Martha. Dunnstock turned on the radio again, found the station which transmitted something like an opera. This reassured her. Nora again started reading. She was silent, didn’t look up, but Martha noticed that she was crying. She cried all the time, continuing to read, until she fell asleep at all, still holding the notebook tightly in her hands.

* * *

Nora, fortunately, slept through the moment when they drove up to Sherwood, otherwise a panic would have flooded over her because of déjà vu. Martha woke her when they arrived at the house. The very one where she had now to live.

She glanced over her notebook. She not finished her reading and she was even a little afraid to touch this thing, so put it aside. She know so far that mom at school was slandered by those two morons and she was crushed and defeated. Of course, she wrote something about JD, and Nora couldn’t wait to read the whole story to the end, but first she had to take care of the house, and then get to the end of the pages alone.

“Now it's yours.” Martha gave her a bunch of keys. “Of course, you need to make a duplicate, but you can do this later...”

Half of her words and actions drowned in some kind of fog. It was a side effect of sedatives. She shouldn’t returning to them so abruptly and taking such a dose in one time. Nora opened the door somehow, then somehow she was already inside, together with the movers, bringing furniture into the house. She walked through the rooms on the second floor - there were two of them - she looked into the attic, where it was possible to carry extra furniture, then somehow returned to the first floor, looking around the dusty living room. The entrance to the kitchen was visible nearby. Then suddenly a peppy young man appeared nearby - a teenager with stretched outfits, with noticeable enthusiasm on his puffy face. Something told Nora that it was Martha's son.

“My name is Ram.” He said, holding out his hand.

The name, which appeared in reality and on the pages of my mom’s diary, slightly sobered her.

“What?” Nora asked again, fearing that she had already begun hallucinations or still hadn’t woken up.

“My name is Ram.” The young man was still smiling, patiently holding out his hand. “Your name is Nora, right? Mom told me a lot about you.”

“Ram Dunnstock?” Nora repeated to herself.

“Yeah, with my mother's last name.” The young man nodded. “Mom called me, said that you came. So I came here to help you with the furniture. Well, and get to know you, of course. Maybe help get comfortable here. I know our area well. I can give you my number, call me at any time as soon as help is needed.”

Nora nodded a couple of times, not even knowing what she could say. She didn’t know how much time had passed on the watch, but already in the living room there were a bunch of drawers and folded spare parts for furniture, another sofa that no one could take apart. On the second floor, the corridor was lined with boxes. In the kitchen, the movers finished plugging in the fridge. Then a loud conversation was heard on the threshold. Nora reached for the sound of others' voices.

“…It’s my name on the lease.” Some man persistently explained to Aunt Martha.

“But Mr. Dawson.” She put her hands on her hips. “She can’t live without electricity until her father arrived!”

“I already allowed to settled for now, although I shouldn’t according to the law. You know me, Martha, I can’t leave that easy if I don’t have a guarantee.”

“What's the matter?” Nora asked, seeing that Ram was standing at the top of the threshold, watching this with excitement.

“This is Mr. Dawson, the former owner of this house.” The young man whispered to her. “Mom persuaded him to let you settle in here today, although you haven’t even paid the first installment, as I understand it, and the contract was not been write until the now. But he forbids wasting light and water, because then the bill will be sent in his name. He needs a contribution, and now we have no money. Is your father coming soon?”

Nora met his gaze with the same anxiety. JD said that he would spend as much time in his hometown as they spent in her city. And no one would have let her withdraw money from her account without a surety-guardian. She hugged herself and felt the rustling of an envelope under her clothes, which had already cut into her ribs with sharp corners... An envelope!

“Mr. Dawson!” Nora went down the threshold. “Glad to meet you. I’m Nora, it’s me and my father buying a house from you. There is no my father now, but he asked me to give you the first installment of the total amount, and his receipt.”

“Glad to meet you, miss,” The short man with a bald head shook her hand. “Marta and I were just talking about the first installment. You see what sacrifices I made, allowing you to enter here without documents?”

“My father and I understand, we understand very well.” Nora shook his short-fingered hand for a couple of times, nodding so vigorously that her head was almost dizzy. “If I remember correctly, the total price was...”

“One hundred and twenty.” Mr. Dawson nodded, not lost in the conversation. “But you decided to move in with your furniture, so the price dropped to ninety thousand, as was discussed from the beginning. But the house is in good condition, with a plot, I built the loft in the attic myself...”

“My father will come only next week. Everything is ready for transferring money and writing an agreement. And I certainly will not spend much light and water before his arrival. Suppose so, I will deposit the first five thousand dollars so all possible and impossible expenses are covered, and add two thousand more to completely rid you of worries before my father arrives. And, of course, a receipt will be attached. My father and I foresaw your worrying, and that is all I have with me for now. But the remaining eighty-three thousand will be on your account in the next three weeks, even faster...”

“Miss, miss.” The man muttered, running a hand over his damp forehead. “Seven thousand will be enough.”

“Then I will bring them to you.” Nora nodded, and then quickly went back to the house.

She was genuinely encouraged by this conversation. Until the absent-mindedness surged again, it was urgent to write this receipt...

“Ram.” She looked back at the young man. “Do you have a pen?”

“I’ll find one!” He perked up, running away somewhere to the kitchen.

Nora opened the last page of her mother’s diary, which was blank, and tore it out, ignoring inner voice, who shouted about blasphemy, as if she had mercilessly torn a page from the Bible. Ram brought her a pen from the movers who filled out the remaining documents.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“I am writing a receipt.” Nora breathed, thinking for about a second.

She saw her mother filling out documents. She remembered what the clients wrote about. She also read almost all the papers in which she and JD had to sign. Should receipts be as official as possible? Is there a general form for writing these? Sighing, Nora wrote what she could come up with, trying to write her father’s handwriting, and then put his signature-squiggle. She took out an envelope, counted out seven thousand, and again ran out onto the threshold.

“Here, Mr. Dawson.” Nora gave him everything he needed. “I just had to look in my bags, but... Is it worth it? Now there is no disagreement between us?”

“We'll see.” The man nodded to her, then looked at his former neighbor. “You're right, Martha. This lady is very serious. Should I be afraid of her father already?”

The woman hesitated, casting a nervous glance at Nora. She wilted too. If only she know should it be afraid of JD?

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Dawson, but we need to get out the movers.” Nora said. “They are about to start cursing that we are delaying them.”

“Yes, of course” The man carefully put all the papers in his pocket. “My best wishes to you. If you have any questions, let Martha contact me. I will stay in the city until the end of October.”

Nora, again, nodded to him, and then went back to the house. Martha said goodbye to her former neighbor, then quickly caught up with her.

“You're a great fellow, Nora. It’s good that JD did foresee it.”

“He didn’t foresee it.” She muttered, and then, with a sigh, she sat on the sofa, next to the diary from which the page was unevenly pulled out. “I just had cash with me.”

“Oh... So, the receipt...”

Nora bashfully lowered her gaze, mentally cursing herself. God, this fog in the head and fatigue loosened her tongue... Will she never learn to keep her mouth shut?

“Marta, this receipt...” Nora began to mutter.

“I know.” She suddenly grinned. The girl looked up at her. There was fun on her aunt's face, albeit with a drop of sadness. “I kept this secret since your mom started faking notes from her parents, and I'm still ready to promise that I will keep it for the rest of my life. Is JD worth knowing about this?”

“Not yet... I don’t know.” Nora shook her head, completely confused in her thoughts.

“Then I won’t say a word.” The woman stroked her shoulder. “The movers have already gathered. Here, sign here, and I'll go see them.”

Nora obediently signed. Martha was still smiling at her. Ram peered into the house.

“Mom, they need you!” He said.

“Already coming, dear. We also have to go home, Nora should rest.”

“See you!” The young man shouted to her, waving his hand in parting.

Martha is also said some goodbye, expressed some wishes, left a list attached to the fridge that was installed but empty inside. Having fallen on a dusty (fuck it) sofa, Nora closed her eyes and was completely lost in herself, no longer hearing and not seeing anything. Fortunately, all the people stomping around her new home and the noisy Mr. Dawson disappeared. She was left alone with this old diary. But, before returning to the eighty-ninth year again, it was necessary to sleep to the end, and fuck the dust that settled on the clothes. Nora put her feet on the armrest, slipped the book under her side, and, turning her face to the door closed outside, again fell into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know at all how matters are being solved with guardianship, buying of real estate and moving into a house, especially how it was done in USA at the 2007, so if there is someone among you who understands this and who cannot calmly look at my amateur performance, then please forgive me and let it go.


	8. you are getting settled

Miss Fleming, an old school principal with a huge horn-rimmed glass, kept her in the office for an hour, and before that, about twenty minutes in front of the office, while doing her own business. And finally, the moment came when their meeting came to an end. Honestly, it was already impossible to tolerate the principal - she was such an annoying person, and then there was this constant comparison with Veronica and...

“I actually made a great tribute to your father. Despite the fact I didn’t have much information about him."

* * *

** _November 2, 1989_ **

_Dear Diary,_

_...I can imagine what JD would say if he found out about the child._

_'We played the wrong seventeenth.'_

_I wanted to say to him to go to hell, but I remembered that he was already there._

* * *

"Welcome to our good friendly family!" The woman threw up her hands when it was time to leave. “I'm sure you'll like it here. Your mother really liked here and she was loved so much!"

* * *

** _March 10, 1990_ **

_Dear Diary,_

_My new school is paradise, as compared with Westerburg._

_Heather C. kept telling me that it would be boring here that someday I would go back to that dark hole called Sherwood, but I would do it over my dead body. Now I'm no longer need to keep count of every time when my classmates called me a whore. If my parents had to stay there for another week or two, I would blow this place up by myself._

_Nora stops kicking when I think about it. She definitely has something in common with JD._

* * *

Only after returning home, Nora noticed how little space there was. Boxes sometimes blocked ways to other rooms. Nora took up the cleaning, sorting the boxes in order to free up space and furnish the house (and also clear her thoughts). She managed to bring down her feelings with some physical work, but, nevertheless, emotions absorbed her every time her hands again staying free.

* * *

** _July 1, 1990_ **

_Dear Diary,_

_Who would have thought there was a happy ending in my story? I will not tempt fate and finish everything before life throws me some new fortress._

_Nora was born at 30 of June, a healthy girl, she is very strong and very, VERY, noisy. Are all the kids noisy like that? Oh, definitely a happy ending. In the happy end, there are no flaws? How was it in the Princess Bride?_

_The birth went smoothly, in spite of all our fears. I am sure that my dad added pepper in a salad for me on purpose, just to finish our torment as soon as possible. We, of course, will take revenge on him, but this doesn't apply to this story._

_Mom is happy to the point of madness, she continues to repeat how the girl similar to us and everything like that. Do the children don’t look like anyone at all, nor my eyes are failing me? So far, I see a small, noisy pink plum, but I'm sure that an amazing and most great girl will grow out of it._

_Let me mention JD for the last time since we are finishing our journey. I thought for a long time, you know, and I would like to thank him for everything - for all the lessons, and, especially, for Nora. Thanks to him, I have the opportunity to bring her up, and raise her as a person who, maybe, will be able to fix people, as we were unable to do this. Oh, I’m sure that he would have his own opinion on this matter, but I’m also sure that he would have loved her, that he would have blown up all the Westerburgs of the world in order to protect her. Thinking about whatever he would do for Nora, I don't know for sure whether I regret his death or not._

_Maybe I would never know. We'll see._

_Goodbye, dear._

_Sincerely yours,_

_ Veronica Sawyer._

* * *

After reading the last entry, Nora also had to think: is she regret? She asked this question to herself for a long time, each time feeling the taste of sadness and longing for her mother. More and more she missed her side, lacked the conversations and hugs that mom could give her.

Nora was so lost in thought and she didn't notice how Martha and Ram arrived, freed after school to help her clean and assemble the simplest furniture.

“As long as I take care of the table,” Miss Dunnstock said, carefully wiping the future top of an unassembled dining table, “you could go to the grocery store. At the same time, Nora, you can find out where there are good shops. Ram knows the whole area, you can trust him."

“Mom.” The young man groaned. “Don't praise me like that.”

“If you deserve it, why not?” With a smile, the woman shrugged.

Ram was very charmingly trying to make a serious look. Nora smiled faintly at him. Throughout the journey, they spoke little of each other. Ram just showed her in different directions, talked about shops, about town establishments, and she nodded in response, and asked rare leading questions.

When they got to the store, and began to walk between the shelves in the empty aisles, Ram just mentioned about his mother was quite tired.

“...So sorry for being late today.” He said, timidly raising his eyes to her.

Nora didn’t like faint-hearted people, she didn’t like apology for nothing, but this didn’t turn her away from Ram, but she was astounded. Staring at him in surprise, she forgot why she even reached for the top shelf.

"You shouldn't apologize. It's me who must do that. I'm serious, you have done a lot for me, even too much. You spend time on me, but you could rest at home, for example." Nora grinned nervously and immediately felt awkward and guilty before Ram.

"Well, we are not doing this for the sake of profit. Mom really loved you, and I like you too. I’m feeling joy for help you. As for the home, it’s easier for us to rest with you but not in our place. Well, all sorts of problems..." The young man scratched his temple. "Family issues. And we will gladly take any chance to escape from problems."

Nora pursed her lips, feeling even guiltier. She heard that Martha’s husband is a very difficult person. This could be understood even without all these rumors, just imagining how it sounds: Martha has a husband, they have almost a son, but for some reason they are not painted, and the son all the time has the name of his mother, and in the column 'father' is a dash. It already sounded strange enough, and immediately inspired not the easiest thoughts. And, even worse, Nora understood, or rather, _she knew_ that Martha’s husband was opposed to her. She could understand him. And yet, if he was angry with her, his family doesn't deserve anything like this. Is it really impossible to find out calmly?

Mom once told her that people sometimes make difficulties for themselves. Did they know how stupid they looked in other people's eyes? Of course, she wouldn't say this to Ram.

"I have to say sorry also for this. Your father is probably unhappy about you are messing with me, some stranger girl. I am not offended, I understand everything, honestly!" She hastened to say, seeing how Ram was going to answer something. "I wouldn't like it too. And I really don't want you to quarrel because of me, so you can leave me, and I will not be lost, and I won’t be angry. This is... family."

The voice treacherously trembled at the last word. Nora tried to smile calmly, adding confidence to her words, but her bloody lips quivered and twisted, so she had to quickly turn away and spend a few seconds trying to get to her senses. She shouldn't cry here in the store, in the presence of the poor Ram, who, she was sure about that, would have been frightened of her tears. Inhaling and exhaling, Nora took a can of coffee, threw it into her basket, and then turned back to the young man.

“That’s enough for me for a whole month.” She said, raising the basket in her hand. “If anything, I'll come here again. Let's go to the cashier..."

“Nora, you are...” Ram pursed his lips, then frowned, choosing words. "In fact, the problem is not just because of you. Dad, he's just... such a person. He almost doesn't swear because of you, he has other reasons to do that. But mom and I are used to it, and we have been living like this for many years. So don’t worry, you won’t ruin anything... That is, you didn’t ruin anything. Because, well... actually, there is nothing to be ruining."

He sighed, glancing briefly at her face, and then timidly looking into her eyes.

“I see.” Nora nodded. “But, if anything, I really understand. You can choose yourself come to me or not, and if it is, come whenever you want..."

"Your father will not mind?" Asked Ram. "Mom says he is a very fervent person."

“I...” Nora sighed. "I don’t know."

“I'm sorry if I'm annoying you with my questions, I just don’t know anything at all. I wanted to be aware, but mom sometimes takes care of me too much. She is also a very vulnerable person. You never know what kind of conversation can upset her."

“If anything, you can ask me.” Nora put the shopping baskets at the checkout.

While she was paying the cashier, they didn't say anything. Ram rushed forward, silently volunteering to carry one of the bags, just like with the basket. When they were out, he again turned to her with curious and cautious look.

“Are you at odds with your father?” He asked quietly. “Well, I know, this is a stupid question, because he just appeared, I mean, is he good with you?”

“He doesn't mind, he is trying to make contact,” Nora answered honestly, looking around the street. “But I don't know him. And there’s nobody to tell me about him. Just recently, I learned about what he was like when he met my mother, and what happened between them, and now I don’t know if I want to meet him. I want to believe he has changed.

“Some people really don't change.” Ram shook his head sadly. "And some are changing. If I didn’t have a father, and then he would appear and would like to have some relations with me, I would meet him. This is stupid, I know. I'm just naive, and also sensitive, and that's a weakness. I understand that I can’t change. It's late for that when I had grown up already."

“I don’t think you’re a weak." Nora grinned. “You are very smart and well-adjusted. And being sensitive is better than being insensitive, I think. We are people or what?"

"Dad says the world today is such a place and I won't make it.” Ram shrugged.

Nora fell silent, realizing all this time it was about his father. She was thinking about classmates or neighbors who might offend Martha’s son, and now it turned out it was his dad. Well, that hardly surprised her.

And then she thought about her mom, who also 'didn't make it'. Nora had no time to even think about calling her mother 'a wick one', her jaw just tensed.

“Idiocy.” Came out from her, and then she realized that she muttered out loud.

To her relief, Ram smiled.

"I think it is. But mom says that he is right in something. If you look at our world, then it no longer seems so stupid, in fact."

Nora remembered the time when she first seriously thought how cruel the world was. It was her second grade, she was seven, and they had a holiday in school dedicated to Father's Day. She invited grandfather, the only one from the whole class, and this aroused curiosity among other children.

_“It can't be that you don't have a dad!”_ Exclaimed one girl. _"If there is no dad, there are no you too! The people without dads do not exist! This isn’t a normal!"_

_“Maybe you're not normal?”_ Asked one curious boy.

_“Exactly, you're just a cripple, Nora!”_

_“No!”_ She cried. _“I'm normal, I’m normal!”_

Of course, such a reaction prompted the kids to start to tease her. They all shouted “She isn’t a normal; cripple! You don’t have a dad, you are not a normal kid!” Nora could only run and push them. When her ears rang, she ran out of the classroom in tears, and cried all the time until mom came for her, Nora spent all the way home, sobbing into mom’s side. Why does everyone have dads, but she doesn’t, she thought. How did she deserve to not be a normal? Why is the world so unfair to her?

“Well, that's true.” Nora shrugged. “Either adapt to the world, or move away from it. I’ll tell you something - being a loner is sometimes even cooler than being at the center of things. Nobody sees you, nobody touches you.”

“Oh, I know.” Ram nodded. “Sometimes I feel lonely, but for the most time I like to be alone. I love silence, I like to read, and if I want to talk, better do it with an intelligent person. Here you are - a smart and nice. You understand me perfectly, I slowly understand you, and it’s not so lonely anymore.”

“You're cool too.” Nora shoved him in ribs with an elbow and smile. “If you were already in high school, I wouldn’t be so bored to go there.”

“I'm interested in learning.” Ram shrugged. “Although I wouldn’t mind being strong. I actually run pretty well, and I can climb trees. And I like to walk. I have one special place. When I feel bad or when I want to go somewhere, but have nowhere to go, I go there. Do you want to see? When you, too, will feel sick, you can also come there.”

“Thanks.” Nora nodded. “But I need to get used to the town for a while. Maybe I will find such a place by myself.”

She really was grateful to Ram, and the idea of a quiet secret place where she could go in difficult moments was not so bad, but she want this place being only for her. Nora wanted to spend her difficult moments alone.

So talking about trivia, they quietly reached Nora's house in a matter of minutes. Martha practically build the table and wanted to cook something for dinner, but Nora managed to convince her to go home to finally rest. In the end, she knew how to cook the simplest dishes, and otherwise she could handle it herself.

A long heart-to-heart talk with Ram cheered her up. Still, she lacked a peer to whom she could speak out and get an understanding in return. She need to call Sharon more often.

With these thoughts, Nora took up the decor of her room, where the assembled bed now stood. Ram helped to build it, and, although they managed that, one leg staggered, but it seemed to be not so bad. One of the boxes with her things was in the attic.

Having climbed there for the first time in a day, Nora noticed what a bright and spacious room it was, except for all these extra boxes. The first time she went up here, she wasn’t quite in her senses due to the side effects of sedatives, and now she could review her new home again.

The window at the end of the attic went directly onto a busy street, at the end of which there was a park, already with warm-colored foliage swayed by the wind. Mr. Dawson built this place wonderfully: the winds howled outside, but inside it was warm and comfortable.

Nora sat on one of the boxes right by the window, and sighed calmly. The good impression of the cozy attic and a pretty good mood led her to a very positive thought.

_She found her special place._


	9. you are getting used to

“Miss Sawyer ...”

“Have you run my test result?” Nora raised her eyes to the teacher, repeating this phrase for the third time in a day.

Mr. Phillips (his last name was easy to remember) nodded to her with a smile.

“Yes, I just came to you because of it. The results are pretty good. When I spoke with other teachers about your testing, I couldn’t have thought that you would really be so knowledgeable.”

“I went a little ahead of the program in my old school, and now I only have to catch up with two or three topics in each subject...”

“And I already heard that from the teachers.” Teacher put in front of her a new notebook. “And your individual psychological test also intrigued me very much.”

Nora felt with every cell of her body stares of her new classmates. She hastened to lower her eyes and covered her face with hair for not to be tempted to cast a glance back at the onlookers.

“Westerburg High didn’t have students like you for a long time. Your mother was one of them.”

“Thank you, Mr. Phillips” She muttered.

At first he seemed very pleasant and professional to her, but now she didn’t even want to look at him. Not because of words about her mom (the third teacher already compared her to Nora), but because of how tactlessly he mentioned her. He probably wanted to let her know he knew Veronica and also regrets the loss, but he could find a better place and time for that.

Because of this, one little difficult day became just insane. Nora didn’t like attract attention, she felt wrong when so many looks were turned on her. Sometimes she didn’t understand at all what was in the minds of the students surrounding her.

At the beginning of the day, a couple of people glanced at the scratches on her face, which scattered across her skin like notches. Nora couldn’t wait for all the marks to heal. The bruises have already passed, there was no pain in the leg, and the headaches began to visit her less often, but cuts in the arms, neck and face were still there. So far, Nora has tried to cover up these unpleasant marks with the hood of her sweatshirt, with hair, but some teachers made it clear that no one can sit in the hood on the classes. So, there was still an attention from surrounding people. Students glared at her hidden face even more, trying to make out. Nobody loved secrets.

Nora didn’t go to the school cafeteria, she skipped lunch, because there was no appetite. And she still didn’t want to people look at her when she was going to have dinner and would surely be covered with pudding. Nora spent the whole recess on the stands of the school stadium, which she had long wanted to take a look at. Of course, nothing said that there was once an explosion, which made a crater and, obviously, a half-dead, but survived guy.

So far, JD had been a big part of her thoughts. Nora could call him or send a message about the house is already ready for living, that she didn’t touch his room, she could also ask which boxes should be moved in there, or where should she go for the next document so that the purchase and sale transaction wouldn’t dragged on for a long time. But she couldn’t force herself to press the call button. At first, in the early days, she was too angry with him, then she didn’t see the point, because very soon her father had to come and make everything himself. However, he had already begun to late. More often, she wanted to write him a message or get a grip and call to just ask what was going on. Maybe Bud killed him a long time ago or again took him away against his will. He knew where to hit and how to remove the prosthetics. And he knew how to clean traces.

Nora decided to wait another day or two. In the meantime, she was still wondering if she regrets the appearing of JD in her life. Should she even worry about him? Wouldn't it be better to leave him to fend for himself, as he himself had done with her mother once?

_Stop worrying yourself,_ hissed an inner voice at her, _because he told you his story, mom wrote it too. You made sure it was true that he couldn’t come, and now he is here. He decided to take you into custody as soon as he found out about you._

Well, of course, this was exhaustive proof of his sincerity, but there were still problems. For mom or not, he dealt with the three, and then with himself, and still was silent about all this, lived with it...

“Hi.” A voice above her ear pulled her out of her thoughts. “You are Eleanor Sawyer, am I right?”

Nora looked up, looking in surprise at the bright trio of girls who stood next to her in the stands. Beauties, with excellent make-up and good clothes, they looked at her with curiosity and care equally. The girl standing in front of her, who spoke first, was more curious than cautious. She had an oval face with a sharp chin, thin lips summed up with a pencil, and far-set almond-shaped eyes of gray color. Dark hair was tied in a long tail.

“I’m...” Nora pursed her lips, looking around the girls awkwardly. “You better call me Nora. No one's calling me Eleanor.”

“As for me, it’s a very beautiful name.” On the next seat there is landed the second girl.

Crossing her legs, she folded her hands in her lap, and gave her a condescending look of green eyes with brown dots. Her hair was blond with a touch of platinum and it spread over her shoulders. She had an even tan all over her body, as Nora could judge by her sleeveless arms, neck, face and legs under her skirt.

“It’s impractical.” Nora said. “What is your name?”

“I'm Emily.” The girl who started a conversation with her offered a handshake. She wasn’t at all embarrassed when Nora barely squeezed her hand as a greeting. “Rather, Emmeline Slopper. We have the same biology time...”

The end of her sentence was lost in the words of another girl when she interrupted without even looking at her friend’s side. “My name is Edith Streep. And this ignorant,” she nodded toward the third girl, “is Elena Stepanoff. ”

That girl, whose name was called, peeked over her shoulder, waving Nora a hand. She smiled politely and walked closer, clutching a tablet in her hands with some scribbled sheets fixed on it.

“She is shy, and we are trying very hard to eradicate this mistake.” Emmeline grinned. “We're pleased to meet you, Nora. A new person in the team is always an exciting event.”

“As far as we know, you haven’t met anyone before us.” Edith said. “Well, it's an honor for us. We head the Committee of Students, so we know everything, everything and everything. Elena is engaged in school journalism, Emily works in the editorial board and she is also part of the cheerleader, and I am responsible for the head of the school asset - organizing events of varying degrees of boredom. I know almost everyone in Westerburg, and, let me venture to brag, in Sherwood.”

Edith Streep reached out for a handshake. Nora accepted her too. Edith had an even harder hand, despite the thin long fingers decorated with painted manicure.

“I am not participating anywhere.” Nora hastened to say. “And I don’t want to participate. I'm here just to finish school. No events interest me...”

“Just so you know how things work around here, every week a school survey is conducted for a different sociological, philosophical or psychological subject.” Edith took from Elena a tablet. “So everyone is forced to participate. But it’s not so scary how you can imagine...”

Polls. Nora always treated it with annoyance. She ticked and answered ‘back off’, but now, apparently, she would have to forget about rudeness.

“Imagine you were in a shipwreck.” Edith began. “You are on a raft, nothing is threatening you, but then you see that a person close to you is drowning on your left, and the greatest scientist of the world who could cure cancer is drowning on your right. Whom would you save?”

Nora bit her lip, thinking for a moment. She imagined a shipwreck, two drowning men. Why did she immediately think about JD? Fuck it, this is just a stupid question. It wasn’t even necessary to think deep, and to go into this with her personal experiences.

“And there will be no details?” She asked, looking again at Edith's face.

“What?” She asked with a degree of confusion in a condescending tone.

“Well, how big of my raft, at what distance do people drown, is there a connection with the outside world, and in general, what equipment can I have on the raft...”

“The raft is very small, there is no equipment.” Edith breathed. “And the drowning people are far enough away from you so you can save only one.”

“I will break the board from the raft, throw it to one person, and swim for another.” Nora shrugged.

“You can't break the board.” Edith patiently explained. “They're nailed to the raft.”

“Well, I somehow survived a shipwreck, which means I have enough strength. Have you heard about adrenaline rush in stressful situations?” Nora sighed, holding back a grin.

“You don’t have to go into difficulties.” said Streep impatiently.

“I don’t go into it.” Nora shrugged. “I will save both if I can. A fairly simple answer for such a simple question.”

“You are very entertaining.” Elena smiled, leaning on the handrails of the stands. “We understood that as soon as we heard your name.”

Well, that's it, they’ll talk about names again, Nora thought. She sighed and looked away. Who knew what the newspapers wrote about the crush. Nora didn’t read it, except for the release the next morning after the accident, and didn’t see any telecasts, except for the one where they showed a photo of the wrecked car. But the Sherwoods saw it all. Most likely, they were not interested in details and truth.

“Elena wants to say,” Edith moved her foot, leaning a little closer to Nora, “that we have the same initials. There is no such person in our school. There are only three of us - Edith Streep, Emmeline Slopper and Elena Stepanoff. Of course, the matter is not only in names, it’s in our minds, in our aspirations and our abilities, but names are a pleasant bonus. They make us feel just more united. And hearing about your name, we wanted to know more about you. Maybe you, too, are capable of more than other does.”

“Well, my name is Nora.” Sawyer barely smiled. “My full name appears only in my ‘paper’ life. And I’m sure that I won’t get to your level. So don’t bury your head in such nonsense as me. I was also pleased to meet you. If I will need a help, I will contact you.”

She stood up, picking up her bag with notebooks.

“Nora, wait.” She was heard from Emily. “If anything, we come to school by car every morning, and leave here in Edith’s Fiat. We can give you a lift today if you want.”

Oh no. She had only two minutes after meeting them. These girls wouldn’t have missed a chance to find out more about her, and Nora didn’t want to share the details of life and feelings with anyone, especially with girls like them... let's call them ES-girls, since they have an oddity on the initials. It all feels like a story with Heathers, and the feelings experienced from reading mom’s diary still raged in her chest, so no. Never. She will not trust them, will not follow their lead, and will not show them her home. What if JD arrives just today? Oh god, she’ll never allow them to see him.

Nora looked around for the last time already at the exit from the stadium. ES-girls, sitting in the stands, quietly talking among themselves, looking in her direction. Also at the stadium there were athletes, and tenth graders warming up before physical education. All of them also paid attention to her, now even more closely. From cautious glances, Nora realized that they were looking at her, then at the girls, whose help she had refused.

Were they really such important?

Still, when she said that migraine almost didn’t bother her it was a hasty conclusion. A headache suddenly overtook her through a class, just in biology. Nora, unable to stay at school anymore (not only because of migraine), went and go to the nurse, taking a note from her. On the way to class, just in case, Nora memorized her handwriting well and even tried to cope it in her notebook. Only after she managed to remember all the symbols, she gave the note to the teacher. Before leaving, Nora noticed Emily, sitting at a distant desk. She looked around Sawyer with great interest, twirling a black pen between her fingers.

Nora really tried to forget about it as soon as possible. She took a deep breath, going out into the fresh air, and then headed for the bus stop, first calling Martha and warning her that it was no longer necessary to take her from school.

The house met with light, emptiness and silence, as she had left in the morning. JD wasn’t here. With a sigh, Nora fell on the sofa in the living room, and closed her eyes. Well, in fact, the school wasn’t so difficult. Another month, then people will get used to her, and stop staring. She just had to wait. Maybe she could even remain invisible to everyone, even for ES-girls, if not for this stupid weekly poll and this dumbass coincidence of their initials.

_Heathers and Veronica Sawyer._

_ES-girls and Nora Sawyer._

Damn, it even sounded almost similar. But now, Nora, following her mom’s experience, was going to stay away from them. She wouldn’t want to start her own body count.


	10. you are savior

“Hey Nora!” Ram called out to her from behind.

He got out of the car and reached out his hand. Nora answered the handshake with a smile, although she was still lost when Ram’s friendliness and energy turned to her. He squeezed her hand and pulled on himself, like boys did when said goodbye and greeted each other, then slapped her shoulder.

“Good luck on the second day.” He said with a grin.

“Oh, thank you.” Nora nodded embarrassedly, slapping him on the shoulder in response. “And you too.”

“Ram, honey...” Martha sighed. “Please don’t embarrass Nora, I asked you.”

“It's all right, aunty.” Nora walked over to the driver's seat, looking once more at the pale Marta, whose wrinkles settled deeper into exhausted face. “You don’t have to take me today. Yesterday I was good with the bus. You just... no need to worry about me. Take care of yourself today.” Nora quickly kissed Martha on the cheek, and that was just a feat for her, and she immediately felt powder on her lips.

A lot of make-up. Martha made up plentifully today. Just as fanatic. Her son slept well because he slept not at home, but in his secret place (which didn’t upset his mother very much). So he would have told what was happening at home but he could not know. Nora’s jaw clenched at the mere thought of what Martha’s husband could say and do to her.

“Run to the classes.”Aunty smiled at her. “We can embarrass you in front of students.”

Nora glanced back out of the corner of her eye. There were few students in the parking lot - all sleepy. Quiet chatter was heard from here. Someone smoked, and someone just met friends. Nobody liked the cool October morning. And yet, everyone stood still, not moving, looking at her. Ram takes the big part of their interest, because he probably woke a couple of guys sleeping on the go with his screams. Nora turned back to Martha, returning a smile.

“I don’t understand how you can embarrass me.” She grinned.

Oh, she understood. At least she can imagine.

First, ES-girls show attention to her, other students show obvious interest, and then Marta Dunnstock (formerly Damptrack) takes her to the school on the old ‘Beetle’ with her teenage son, with whom she, Nora, is so close, although he is almost three years younger than her, too noisy, ugly, and even a boy, moreover.

It’s compromising on thirty-three offensive nicknames.

But, if that can help to get rid of the attention of sub-Heathers, she was only for it.

The classes, in general, went well, as it did yesterday. Just like always. Nora didn’t like school just because she had to deal with a society of still unstable kids and prejudiced teachers. At the old school she managed to get used to this for two years, because there were people familiar from the middle school, and the situation was scout out, but here... It was impossible to predict what Sherwood would throw to you. All that Nora had was her mother’s diary, and all she could do was speculating, thinking about mom’s records.

Today, Nora didn’t hide from people at dinner, because she was too hungry for all kinds of hide and seek. She simply decided to take the farthest table, which was visible from here, from the line at the serving. Nora was already paying for a frugal lunch, when a young man appeared a head taller than her, wearing a sport bomber jacket. Nora already noticed the Westerburgs players in these sweatshirts when she sat on the stands of the stadium yesterday.

“Are you Eleanor Sawyer?” He asked immediately in a very hasty tone.

“Nora.” She corrected with a sigh. “Just Nora. I don’t know you, sorry. May I pass?”

“Are you in a hurry? ‘Cause the others, probably, don’t mind.” The young man with a grin nodded back. “Really, guys?”

A pair of boys from a computer club and a sleepy girl with pink strands looked away, just like that. Nora frowned, realizing she had run into another school eagle.

“I can’t stand with a tray for long.” She muttered. “My hands are shaky. Another second and I will pour my milk on you.”

The guy laughed pretty, and then moved to the side, letting her pass.

“You're so sharp, that's cool.” He said. “Don't be mad, I just wanted to invite you to our table.”

“I don’t even know your name.” Nora said, walking straight to the far table.

Without ever looking back, she sat down with her back to the entire cafeteria, reached for a pack of milk. Behind her there was a fussy noise, muffled hasty chatter, then a whisper from all sides. Nora could only breathe with annoyance when this squirt with a red-auburn hair was seated opposite so sharply that all the objects with his tray jumped with a sharp pop on the table.

Nora didn’t really like self-confident people, but some more she couldn’t tolerate an annoying cocky morons like that.

“My name is Isaac.” He said, grinning. “Nice to meet you.”

“I could say the same thing if you would have some more manner. I don’t know who you are in the team...”

“I’m in offensive position.” He’s answered.

“I should guess.” Nora scooped up her puree with a spoon. “Do we have any study hall the same time?”

“No.” The guy shook his head. “I just wanted to meet with a new face.”

“We have to study at the same school for about seven months, Isaac.” Nora sighed. “I assure you, there is nothing in me that could interest you. I don’t even want to join any organizations.”

“And yet, there is something in you, everyone is talking about it.” He ate almost half of the salad at once and, not even chewing it completely, spoke up again. “By the way, my condolences about the accident.”

“Don’t.”

The plastic fork nearly broke in her hand. Nora snapped her jaw, casting a burning look at him, but almost immediately softened. Not even all the teachers expressed their sympathy, not to mention the ES-girls who was so longed for communication with her, but forgot about some manners. Isaac didn’t forget, and this made him a little higher in her eyes. Still, he had a clue about at least some decency.

“Our families were know each other.” He pointed at her and himself with a fork. “My stepmother's name is Heather Duke, and my father's name is Jill Mackenzie.”

Nora stared at him, almost choking on milk.

“Apparently you heard about us.” Isaac smiled, looking at this kind of reaction in a peculiar way. “There is nothing to do, Sherwood is a small city. Here everybody knows everything about everyone, everyone communicates with each other and almost all of them are related to each other. So I knew something about you long before we met.”

“Nobody knew about me.” Nora muttered.

“Okay, I meant your mother.” He ate his lunch in almost a couple of minutes, drained a pack of milk in one go. “My stepmother knew her very well. Now I know you, and the teachers are probably right that you are like your mother.”

“You know neither me nor my mother. And Heather didn’t know her either.” Nora rose sharply.

She remembered those broken, vague diary entries about how her mother had been slandered by Kelly, Sweeney and Duke, how her mother wrote in horror that the whole school had flocked at her like vultures. And now, Heather had the audacity to remember her mom, dared to even talk about her, and even convince her stepson that she knew her well.

“Easy!” A voice came from behind. "You can kill somebody by the accident. What's that noise?"

Emmeline smirked, appearing from behind her. Right there Elena sat down, and Edith took a seat from Isaac.

“Why am I not surprised, Mackenzie? You even managed to piss out a newcomer in five minutes of acquaintance." She looked at him with contempt. “Why don't you go back to your friends? I think, they almost cry without you."

“I should have met the new one, as it should be.” Isaac met Edith's stinging gaze and rolled his eyes. “Okay, Streep, I'll leave. Let me just apologize. Sorry, Nora, if I offended you. I invite you to a party at my house this Friday to smooth out everything between us. It will be cool, you will not regret it."

“I'll think about it.” She muttered.

“Well, yes, you have plenty of time until Friday.” He grinned. "Alright, see you."

A plenty of time, yeah. Today was Wednesday. Nora hardly watched Isaac go, and then didn't sit down in her place.

“Thank you for helping me girls, but I need to move now...”

“Just a thank you, Sawyer?” Emily grinned. “You run away from us as if we can bite you.”

_Yes, you capable of._

“I just don't like talking.” She breathed. "At all. With no one."

“We noticed.” Elena bit off a slice of bread.

“Especially with the Dunnstocks.” Edith said. “They are friends of your family, huh?”

“Family friends.” Nora confirmed. “And my personal friends, too.”

“It's amazing that you got along well.” Edith raised her eyebrows.

“I bet you don't know them at all.” Nora pursed her lips. “And you have no idea about their nature.”

“Today you are already... more cheerful, or something.” Remarked Emily, barely frowning. "And more confidently."

“I got used to it a bit.” Nora nodded to her before addressing everyone again. "Thanks again. And see you later."

“See you soon.” Edith chuckled.

Damn her and her big mouth.

Actually, Nora shouldn’t have attacked people like that, especially those important ones, but she somehow didn’t give a damn about it, when they remembered her mother.

The bell from the end of class was a delight for her ears. Nora was one of the first to leave school; she walked quickly, so she managed in time for the bus to stop.

The house was met with the same emptiness and dust that had time to settle. Nora realized a little late that she didn't eat well at school, so she had to cook herself a normal lunch. She wonders how soon she could eat in the school cafeteria. Maybe she should taking food with her from home, as in elementary school, and eats in some toilet or boiler room?

Nora cooked pasta for one serving, and just rubbed hard cheese in them. For the one cup of children's lunch, she had to run between the kitchen drawers and remember where she had stuffed the grater.

Nora just sat at the table, when suddenly at her front door there was a knock so sharply and so hard that she dropped the plug from her hands.

"Who's there?" She asked, already tensing with her whole body.

"It's me, Nora!" Shouted in response a scream mixed with heavy breathing. "Open, please!"

Nora opened and Ram burst inside, all red and trembling, along with the autumn wind and the smell of stale foliage.

"Nora, I... I don’t know what to do, I... My father..."

“Wait, sit down.” She pushed him toward the sofa, but the young man grabbed her hands tightly, sweating.

"No I can't! I can’t sit! I need to do something!"

“Explain to me.” She asked calmly. "From the very beginning."

“After school, I went to my secret place, to the forest house, but it was broken, everything was broken...” Such pain was reflected on the young man's face. His lips twisted, his brows frowned, and his eyes nearly filled with tears. He was an adult youth, so this shelter was very dear to him, if destruction of this place managed broke his heart. "And all things got wet, and the boards broke, there was no way to fix it. This is my father, only he could do that. Probably, mom could tell him where my hut was, and he looked for me there, and then broke it so I..."

Ram clenched his fists, Nora gasped from pain, so the guy quickly woke up and let her go, but the rage that distorted his features didn't disappear.

“So your father destroyed your shelter, so you ran to me?” She asked perplexedly.

“No, I ran home, I thought I would kill him for all this, for what he had done before and for my hut!" Exclaimed Ram. “But mom was at home. They again cursed, and then I jumped up and pushed him very hard, he turned the table over, and then rushed at me. Mom distracted him, he hit her, and I wanted to run after the police, but she forbade me, and I have nowhere else to go, and I don’t know what to do!.."

Nora gasped, hearing that Martha had been hit. She immediately squeezed Ram's hands in response and took a step forward.

"Ram, we have to go. Come on, show me the way. We must take Marta from there..."

“Nora, my father has a gun. Without a license.” He sighed heavily. “And we hid it. He told us that they would arrest us too..."

“They won't put you in prison!” Blurted out Nora. "He threatened you, the court takes this into account! Damn it! Ram, do you want to lose your mother? Do you want to stand at the funeral, like me? Do you want to go to an orphanage and live with it for the rest of your life?"

He stared at her in horror, and then stepped toward the door.

“Then I will go home, I have to stop him, pick up my mother.” He said. "And then deal with him once and for all!"

“You cannot handle it alone!” Nora went on the threshold after.

“And shall I run further? Should I let him kill mom? Sherwood cops are never helped! Even when mom was at my age, they didn't care, and now they don't! I'm going home!" He ran down the sidewalk.

"Ram!" Nora shouted after him, but, moving rather quickly for his physique, he was increasing his speed more and more. "Ah, damn!"

Slamming the door behind her, Nora ran after him. Who would she be, letting him go back to the mortal danger alone?

She hadn’t run for a long time, so she was out of breath before catching up with Ram. The lungs were burning and head was spinning, but she didn’t give a damn about it when she found by the noise the very house on the next street. They had already reached to here together.

“Do you know where he keep a gun?” Nora asked, tugging the young man by the sleeve.

"In the garage, it seems. I didn't look for it." Ram shook his head.

Nora looked around for something useful before entering the house. She noticed that there was a dusty wicker table on the veranda, next to which was a bin, a basket for dirty laundry and a broom for walkways and a threshold. The handle was thick, pretty old. Nora climbed the stairs, clutching the broom.

“I will distract him, and you go after your mother. And don't argue with me! He's drunk, huh?"

“Yes.” Ram nodded to her.

“So he won't do anything to me. Not now. I run fast and hit without a miss. Ever played croquet?"

"No."

“Well, now you will see how we play.” Nora made a swipe. “You run in, you go after your mother and take her to my house, understand?”

There was a female scream that made them both speechless. Ram ran into the house, Nora rushed after him.

They ran up the narrow stairs, and collided in a narrow corridor, finding them very close to the scream that reflected off the walls. A six-foot tall man with sinewy arms and strong legs pounded on the door with all his might. There were already so many dents that couldn't be counted.

"Open up, you fat bitch!" He shouted.

Martha behind the door shouted something like ‘No’ in response, which caused an animal roar from this asshole, who ran a dry palm over his head with a pale buzz cut, and then put a gun at the door.

“Get away from the door, otherwise I’ll shoot you!” He shouted, holding out his hand.

Nora finally saw the gun in his hand, and her legs gave way. Then she noticed that there was already a hole in the keyhole, which means that Martha kept the door on her.

She sobbed on the other side of the door.

"Leave her alone!" Shouted Ram.

_What an idiot_, Nora thought, putting her hand on his chest when this man turned to face them. They, son and father, were completely different, so the girl didn't think at that moment about this criminal, as about Ram’s father. He had a wild look and heavy breathing, he looked at them without blinking, with simply startling hatred. Then he stumbled, tripping over a fold of carpet, and crashed into a wall. Oh, he was very drunk. Very. Now Nora understood what a sour smell was in this corridor, preventing her from breathing.

"You!" Barely using his tongue, the man threw a pistol in their direction.

"Step back!" Nora pushed Ram to the stairs and stepped there, managing to still not fall over the mop. "Ram, hide!"

"No!"

"Yes!" She shouted to him. “I'll get him out of here, then you’ll come for your mom!”

Ram barely managed to lean his back against the wall under the stairs when his father, stomping loudly, appeared on the top step.

“Hey!..” Nora breathed, immediately speechless. She wanted to shout something at him so he could go down faster, but the words stuck in his throat. "You…"

"You little brat!" He growled, surprisingly easily climbing the steps.

Well, obviously, he understood who she was. And maybe he didn’t understand, but this wouldn't have saved her from punishment. Nora rushed to the back yard, running through the kitchen door. She hid behind the door, swinging a mop and deeply drawing in air, so as not to exhale and not burst here with fear.

Martha’s husband pushed the door out, and then the girl hit in a big way, covering her eyes. She heard a crash and rumble. First, the mop broke, only a 3 feet of the handle remained in her hands. It was a crack. The rumble was the sound of a falling overweight body.

"Bitch!" The man squeezed the gun in his hand, but then Nora kicked him on the wrist, almost falling on the man from above.

The gun flew off to the side, rolling along the steps of the veranda, the drunkard howled, clutching his hand. Nora hit him on the shoulder with a stick, then put it on the head. Martha’s husband noticeably quieted down, letting out a moaning, rather than a scream.

Nora's blood ran cold. She stepped back and, stumbling, began to fall, but didn't even notice a blow to the ground. Without taking her eyes off the man, she couldn’t breathe.

She killed him. Lord, she killed a man. _Again_.

But when he moaned already louder, starting to move, Nora quickly got to her feet, cautiously stretching out a stick in front of her.

“Little bitch...” He muttered, put his hand to the huge bump. “And that whore, and that bastard...”

Nora was afraid for a second that she had killed him, and now she regretted that she hadn’t.

"Don’t you dare touch them again!" She shouted. “I'll hand you over to the police, asshole! I know the laws, understand me?"

"Who are you?!" He said, raising a cloudy look at her. “Ah, you are petty, with a slutty mo...”

"Shut up!" Nora ran to him, striking in the face, but, fortunately, the man managed to somehow hide behind his hands.

She struck four times until the lungs ran out of air. Then she caught her breath and struck again, as hard as she could.

“You’ll touch Marta or Ram, I’ll not just beat all the shit out of you, I’ll fucking kill you!” She hissed. “And no one will search for you, you dick!”

The hands of the drunkard were already blue and red - there were so many bruises. Over his ear, she cut open his skin, blood came out. The nose also broke.

He spat blood on her boots, tried to grab her ankle, but she hit his forearm with this dumb stick, and then put it on his ribs as an additive.

Somewhere there, on the other side of the house, the exit door slammed and there were female sobs and clatter.

“You heard me, scum.”

Nora looked around and picked up a gun so that the man wouldn’t shoot them in the back. She could hardly hold a weapon in her hands, but had to bury it or drown it somewhere. A fragment of a mop was still clutched in his other hand, her fingers simply refused to unclench, as if they had grown to a tree.

Nora caught up with the Dannstocks, then looked back at their house. Everything was quiet. No one followed them.

“Nora, why are you...” Tears ran down Martha’s cheeks.

The powder has long been worn away. She had a large, fresh bruise on her neck. Nora angrily clenched her jaw.

"Don't you even dare!" She snarled toward her aunt.

She looked at her in horror, as did Ram, before moving on again. The young man supported his mother, because she barely limped and moved, as if on cotton legs. Only three minutes later they reached Nora’s house.

Together with Ram, putting Martha on the sofa, Nora immediately straightened. She quickly ran upstairs to the attic, threw a stick and a gun there, then found a first-aid kit and went downstairs.

“Do you still want to go to the police?” Asked her Ram, pale because of fear. He was trembling so, so timidly looking at her.

Nora didn’t understand that he was now scared not because of his father, but because of her - so tense and serious, banged up and wicked to death.

“No.” She muttered reluctantly, passing him peroxide.

And this answer was enough for him, so the young man hastened to return to the living room to his mother.

Nora squeezed the top of the kitchen table and sighed. Should they want for police right now? She beat a man, stole unregistered weapons from him. Could she be imprisoned? She wasn't so good with laws, no matter how much she boasted to that moron. It was hoped that he wouldn't come for revenge. And there was still hope that JD, when he found out about this incident, would react correctly and wouldn't kill or beat anyone.

She ran into the room, changed clothes, and then went down to Aunt Martha, who had already cooled slightly. Then the aunt took advantage of her calm for now temper.

“Nora, Ram told me everything. Thank you very much, but you shouldn’t go in there like that..."

“I don't want to hear anything.” Nora rapped out. “I lost one mother. Maybe we will lose Aunt Heather very soon. You want us lose you either? How would Ram live with it, how do you think?”

The young man, sitting in the kitchen and having supper with cooled pasta, looked up at them bashfully.

“So don't say a word to me. And I will deal with JD myself too."

When they all went away from this experienced horror, Aunt Martha was completely unstuck. Nora helped Ram take her upstairs to her room, he is sleeping on the couch in the living room, and she was going to go to the attic when the phone squeaked.

Nora picked up Martha’s phone. She thought that it was her husband who came to his senses and began to write to her. Whatever it was, in any case, Nora wanted to turn off the phone at all, so as not to disturb her aunt until the morning.

She was already grimacing when she saw a line with the text of the message on the screen, but was immediately taken aback because it was not Martha’s husband.

** _JD:_ **

_I am writing to you for the second time._

_What's up with Nora?_

So, he didn’t forget about her all this time.

Nora didn't even know how she felt when she knew this.

Some bitter joy flooded in her chest, but quickly disappeared. Fatigue was stronger.

Leaving the phone in this very place, the girl went up to the attic and spread out in a soft old armchair, where she was ready to sleep for at least a year, if Marta and Ram needed it.


	11. you are surprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!ATTENTION!!!
> 
> Chapter has suicide motives and psychological pressure.
> 
> Read with careful or skip it, if you are affection-able person.

When Nora decided not to go to school, nobody began to stop her. No wonder, because Aunt Martha was hiding from any conversation, bashfully dropping her eyes and almost falling into sobs.

She probably thought that Nora wanted to talk seriously with her about an unhealthy relationship, about the future and the past, but, in fact, Nora just wanted to say that she had crippled her husband, and didn’t consider it as a bad thing, instead of these long conversations that were probably worthless.

“We bothered you so much.” The aunt cried just before leaving the house. “I swear, Nora, we won't bother you anymore.”

And now Nora twice in the last day rude to her.

“Just try to apologize, and I won’t talk to you.”Sshe muttered, looking at her and Ram. “I demand that you live with me.”

“But JD.” Martha grimaced.

“I said I’ll deal with him.” Nora raised her tone to convey her seriousness to her. “Do you seriously think, Martha, that someone can stop me when you or Ram needing help? Do you remember what I did yesterday for you?”

“That worries me.” She sobbed again, falling into another, already countless stream of tears. “God, what would Veronica say? I swore before her ashes that I would protect you from any danger…”

Nora slammed the railing of the threshold, gritting her teeth.

“Martha. I knew my mother as much time as you did. She raised me like that, so if she was with us, she would be the first to rush into your house. And while she is gone...” She realized that she had made a mistake, but didn’t correct herself. “I will do as she raised me. I'm sure she would like me to do that.”

Most likely, mom would have flog her and locked up for a week, putting lattices on her windows, just for such an irresponsible attitude to her life, but not because of a misconduct, it was very important to understand. But now it would be difficult to impress it upon Martha, so Nora simplified the explanation, even if she had to quite a bit twist.

She was right in her suggestions - Martha looked at her sadly, and then smiled.

“Sounds like Veronica I knew.” She breathed.

Nora grinned, too, having experienced a rush of bitter longing, and, to distract herself from it, slammed the railing again, but softer.

“Good luck at work.” She said. “And Ram good luck with your studies. Be sure to come in after classes. I owe you a mop.”

He laughed awkwardly, despite the seriousness of his mother.

“Okay.” He answered, already without any gloomy mood in his voice. “See you.”

“See you.”

Pursing her lips, Nora watched them leave the street, following the bus stop. Their car remained in a cramped garage, where this crazy man — husband and father — probably remained now, and therefore none of the Dunnstocks wanted to return to this damned house for some kind of car where were probably waiting for them.

With a sigh, the girl entered the house, closing the door behind her and again went up to the attic.

_“Hello, Veronica. Can you help me with English?” Asked her girl with the same pink hair and an extinct look._

_“Yes, of course.” She said in a voice that was more like her mother's than hers._

_Nora looked around herself and saw blue clothes. A lot of bright blue, checkered pattern on the sleeves of the shirt under the jacket. Wavy strands blocked her face. Nora irritably shook them aside, and then turned around when she heard a distinct boyish laugh in the blurry sound of barely understandable voices._

_“Wow, Sawyer.” Isaac looked up at her. “You look cool today.”_

_“Thank you.” She said, bewildered._

_“Are you sitting at our table?” He asked._

_“No, I'm busy.” She muttered._

_“Well, of course.” He rolled his eyes. “Your boyfriend...”_

_“ Jason Dean! Mr. Dean!” Called out to her from behind._

_Nora turned back to see Miss Fleming, awkwardly fingering, hurrying to get to her._

_“Mr. Dean, I'm still waiting for your explanatory note about missing classes on Tuesday!” She minted, adjusting her glasses._

_“I forgot it.” Nora realized that she was now speaking in a man's voice, so calm and hypnotic. Now she was her father._

_“And, for God's sake, take off your coat! Take it to the locker room!” Miss Fleming gave him a look, waving her hand._

_Nora looked down, seeing black floors dangling at her knees. Blue jeans were tucked into shabby boots._

_“As you say, Miss Fleming.” She answered with a smile, again looking at the teacher._

_And she knew, from somewhere she knew that he wasn’t going to take off his trench coat. Rather, she isn’t going to, because she is now in his body, speaks in his voice and..._

_“Veronica.” Music for the ears._

_Nora turned to a bewitching, slightly hoarse voice. Everything she saw in the middle of the gray corridor was red. High stockings, a short skirt, a velour strawberry jacket and scarlet lipstick on the lips. Eyes of the color of pure ice looked at her condescendingly._

_“Heather?” She answered, again in the voice of her mother._

_From somewhere there was a desire to squeeze to lump or pretend to be dead so that this predator would bypass her._

_Chandler threw up her hands, squeezed between her lips, as if biting her thin finger._

_“Hello, dear.” She almost sang._

Nora flinched in her chair and jerked her head, looking sleepily toward the source of the noise. Something fell down below. She sighed and rose cautiously, following to the hatch leading down from the attic.

She dreamed of Heather Chandler. A ticket to the asylum has already been issued.

And then, literally after a second, Nora froze a little, thinking about she... dreamed. She had a dream. For the first time after the accident, she had a dream.

No wonder she had such a hell of a dream. She was in the bodies of her parents, everybody talked to her, as with them, and then... Heather. There was nothing to add.

Nora, feeling stuffy, combed her hair with fingers. Then she thought who it might be. The working and school day has already begun, only a thief or owner can break into here. So father came.

She looked out the window by the chair, saw Heather's car in the yard. It was him, just him. Nora held her breath and was suddenly lost, not knowing how to meet him, what to tell him, how to explain everything. Not only about this bumpkin who could shoot her, but also about the diary, about Heathers, about the mother who cried for so long, and was so worried when she found out that she was pregnant.

Everything flashed before her eyes - records of their acquaintance, of love flared up, of madness and lies, then of cruel sacrifice. And then he lied to her daughter that he didn’t beat her, that everything was wrong. He always lied, he lied to mom and her.

Surely now he thinks that he can hide, rewrite, fix everything. Nora wondered how to let him know, what to tell.

And how to make sure that he once and for all stopped his games at least with her.

* * *

JD almost immediately felt that something was wrong. The house was furnished, and furnished just well. It was clean and there was food in the kitchen, but... Smell. Luscious perfume. Dunnstock was here, and not just fleetingly, but clearly for a long time. Still - sweat and cheap cologne. Boy. There were three cups on the kitchen table, in two of them at the bottom there was an unfinished portion of fried eggs.

They had breakfast here - Martha and her child. Surely they took her to school. But why was the door open...

“Hi.” He turned to the stairs, seeing his daughter coming down, looking at him carefully. “You lingered.”

It was then that JD understood that he was standing there, like a tree, watching her... with relief. She was no longer so pale and exhausted, although the shadows under her eyes lay even deeper. And the look... remained the same, as if she was ready to rush off from him.

JD managed to admit that he missed her a little, because he managed to get used to her and soak in some semblance of his father's feelings, but the girl, obviously, didn’t miss him. She never wrote to him once. She didn’t call. She didn’t ask and didn’t say anything, unlike Martha. She was generous with reproaches (“she bought food”, “arranged furniture”, “eats intermediate foods or doesn't eat at all”, “Dawson is waiting for payment at home, but what can a girl do?”), but instead of feeling guilty, JD feels only pride and relief.

“Hi.” He answered. “You're not at school?”

“I decided to skip the day.” She answered honestly. “There are reasons.”

“Feeling bad?” He asked.

“Partly.” Nora nodded. “We need to talk seriously.”

Her cryptic answer served as the first wake-up call. She didn’t like to play puzzles. And this tone too. Tense. Not angry, but very serious.

“I would like to show you something.” Nora went down the steps to the end and moved sideways towards the kitchen. Away from him. Then she timidly sighed, as if deciding on something, and closed her eyes.

Her hand reached under the jacket and... She pulled out a gun. A real one. She lifted her chin, came to her senses for a second. JD didn’t showed his surprise, didn’t showed his fear. He had only one question.

“Where did you get that?” Curiosity showed his excitement.

“It doesn't matter.” Nora shook her head, her lips twisted for a second in a nervous smile. She aimed... at him. Straight to the chest. She held the gun in her outstretched hand and, apparently, it was heavy for her, because her elbow was trembling a little. “If you're worried, then you shouldn't, because the bullets are special. Do you know which ones?”

It was so long ago. He didn’t remember part of his life before the explosion, the concussion failed him, but this was impossible to forget. Despite the time, despite the almost successful suicide attempt by the crookedly built bomb, JD remembered. It was like he told Veronica yesterday that _these bullets wouldn’t kill them, because_...

“These are _Ich Luge _bullets.” Her lips quivered, still twisted in that fake smile that she barely managed to hold. “Remember those?”

“How...” The question burst out, and then hung in the air.

Nora had an old notebook in her hands. Another bright flash in the memories: golden corners and a floral pattern, wide lines, and a monocle on a rope instead of a bookmark.

“Everything is written here.” Nora swallowed the tears, her eyes sparkled. And yet, this abnormal smile still remained on her face. “Oh, don't be scared. I just wanted to make a joke, just like you wanted to do this with Kurt Kelly and Ram Sweeney. You convinced mom so well that it’ll be just a joke. I didn’t finish reading, so I don’t know how it ended. It was probably fun. _Fun, right_? Look, I even prepared a note.”

She threw him a paper ball. JD caught him and started reading a lines written as if with his hand.

“This world will disappear without Veronica Sawyer, just as I did. We will not be reunited in heaven, but I will love her forever and wait for the moment when I can atone for all my sins before the Devil and see Her. I apologize to my daughter, but she would be much better off without me, because I can never become her father.”JD read aloud, and then looked up at her. “Not bad.”

“Thank you, I make this up it right away.” Nora nodded in gratitude. “If I would have some more time, I can come up with a whole speech, and, of course, I can have inserted a quote from the Bible or something from Shakespeare. Which do you prefer?”

“Jerome Salinger.” JD answered, trying not to notice that the gun was already trembling noticeably in his daughter's hand.

“Oh, that would be funny!” She exclaimed. “I thought you would be pleased to recall that old rally for Kelly and Sweeney. Are you not happy? Are you afraid that you will die? But these are just fakes... Unless, of course, you lied to your mother.”

JD sighed heavily. Nora's gaze now began to fill with anger and resentment, just like during their first meeting. Then it turned out that he not only left them, but also beat Veronica, and he tried to deny, tried to fix what McNamara blurted out...

Now Nora knew. She knew absolutely everything, it was written on her face, distorted with rage. Her lips no longer trembled.

“Yes, I lied to her.” He said. “And I regret it. Truly, I regret that I deceived her. Every day I regretted and I will regret what I did to her. And I didn’t let her kill herself, I took the bomb myself, because she deserved it. And you, if you want revenge, I will not resist. You wrote a great note, but you better shoot at the right temple, and go to ‘7-eleven’ and drink a slushie for me... The fuse. You forgot again.”

Nora lowered the guard, tears already rolled down her cheeks, but she was silent, looking at him with disappointment. The daughter shook her head after a couple of seconds, looking at him with such anger that JD realized that she expected more.

“I'm not afraid of death, it's understandable.” He grinned unhappily. “I should have died then, and I live now only because you need me. But, if you need revenge, if you are sure that you want this, I will not resist... But you can’t, right? You are not a killer, no matter how much you would like to kill me.”

Nora sighed noisily and, grimacing in despair, lowered her gun. Tears no longer rolled down her cheeks and, it seemed, she felt better when the muzzle was point down. JD wanted to come closer and pick up the gun from her, but suddenly she picked it up again.

“I'm not a killer, but I can become a suicide.” She said quietly. “Genes, huh? Actually, I don’t have to live either. I won’t be able without mom. And for you I’m a burden, admit it. I will die and you will be able to run away again, leave, anywhere. You don’t have to feed anyone, write all kinds of documents, go on the courts. I wrote another note, only from myself, it is in my pocket. I don’t blame anyone, and also write about mom...”

JD couldn’t breathe, looking into her calm face. She had so many emotions on her face when she aimed at him, and now... Only acceptance. Her hand almost didn’t tremble.

The man stepped sharper, Nora stepped back just as abruptly, without taking the gun from her head. She didn’t take her eyes off him.

“Why are you afraid of my death? You said that if I need more, then I can. If you are afraid of the law, then I wrote that your fault is not, that I have been planning this for a long time. Martha and Ram will survive this, they spent so much effort on me, and Heather... she just didn’t have much time left. I hope she forgets me before this happens to her. You just leave as fast as you can...”

“Nora, what would Veronica say?” He almost whispered.

“She would have begged me, but she’s not here, that’s the point.” She sighed. “Why can't you accept that I want this? Why shouldn’t I do this? What is the reason...”

“Because you are my daughter. And because I won’t make it if something happens to you.” He answered, feeling, for the first time in many years, how he began to tweak in his eyes. “Can't I fix anything?..”

Nora looked at him carefully, and then it seemed to him that the finger lying on the trigger twitched. And it was not clear which of them would die faster - is he from a heart attack, or is she from a bullet.

“That's how it feels.” She said. “Do you understand what I mean? Powerless. When you look at a loved one who voluntarily steps into the grave, and you can’t do anything. And you think, ‘What have I done wrong? What could I do?’ But, oh, it’s the worst, you then have to live with this all your life, asking yourself this question to the very end. Mom lived like this, and couldn’t end it the way you did, because she still had me, and I needed to be raised. She kept a diary until the very moment I was born, but I remember that she cried for you until the very end, and I hated you so much, I kept wondering why she was love you, what did you do that she continues to love you... And imagine that you would have to live like this for almost twenty years. Every day. Not just living, but working, taking care of the child, helping parents, communicating with colleagues, clients, just people. Every day, get up, do your thing, and not for a second forget what kind of guilt lies with you. She didn’t regret a single murder as much as yours.”

Nora lowered her pistol and shook her diary in the air.

“And you couldn’t fix anything, because it all started not from the murder of Chandler, and not from your acquaintance, but from what you have done many times before, and continue to do so far. You're lying. You lied to the whole world, you lied to my mother, and you didn’t tell me the truth.”

The daughter came closer, but he couldn’t move, such a weight fell on him, and blood pounded loudly in his temples.

“You want to fix everything. You can’t fix it. I’m not going to hand you over to the cops, I take your word that you won’t go for that anymore. I believe that you love me and want a normal life, but you should start with yourself. Take it.”

She shoved Veronica's diary into his hands, JD stared at him in amazement.

“Just don’t destroy it.” Nora said. “I really will not give it to anyone, but this is... the memory about her.”

“That is, all of this... A gun...” He said.

“I wanted you to understand me very well, but for this I had to scare you very much or make you worry. How was it there? ‘The extreme always seems to make an impression’?

She left the living room, grabbing a gun, and he remained standing in the middle of the room on unbending legs, until he opened the first page.

_“Dear Diary…”_

* * *

Nora wisely decided to go to school, leaving her father alone with the diary and his thoughts. She would be late for two lessons, but, truly, was this a cause for worrying after what she played here?

She quietly left through the kitchen door, leaving the yard not even on foot, but simply by running, hiding from the street for two minutes. She didn’t even have to wait for the bus, it mercifully stopped for her when he was already starting to drive off.

Nora entered Westerburg during the break between the third and fourth lesson, gave away a note explaining to Miss Fleming, and went to class, successfully avoiding a large crowd of people where there could be ES-girls or Isaac.

And yet, when she passed the entrance to the gym, a tenacious hand pulled her inside. Nora didn’t resist purely out of curiosity.

“Good afternoon, Sawyer. Overslept?”

“Good day to you, Emily. Suppose it is.”

Edith Streep, leafing through the papers attached to the tablet, took out something small, a little crumpled. Nora groaned when she recognized in a notebook sheet her note written a couple of days ago.

“I sincerely admire.” Edith nodded with a smile, looking at her. “We are all delighted. Perfect fake. The only thing that betrayed you was that the nurse was busy that time with Elena, and she certainly couldn’t write any notes.”

Nora looked at Elena, a calm girl, propping herself against a wall. She looked back at her with a curious look.

“Okay, Edith, get down to business right away.” Nora rolled her eyes.

“The three of us will keep your secret.” Streep said with a mysterious smile. “And you will sometimes provide us with your services. And your talent will be very well appreciated...”

“Okay.” Nora said hastily. “I will fake notes for you, and you will be silent, that suits me. Deal. I can go? I'll be late for the class.”

“I'm sure you won't have a problem because of late.” Edith held out her hand for a handshake.

Nora looked her up and down and jumped out of the gym without shaking her hand.

Yes, it was blackmail. Yes, she now dealt with the ES-girls, but if this could provide her peace and, perhaps, protection, Nora voluntarily agreed to this deal.

At a big break, she, instead of having lunch, went to the library - a place where Isaac would definitely not have been. And here it was quiet and spacious, not to mention the fact that there were computers with Internet access and a printer. Nora realized that here she likes more than anywhere else in the school.

She went to the site of Westerburg with all the information, photographs and alluring speeches. And she couldn’t resist clicking on the ‘History’ section. Ruthlessly flipping through the century since the opening of the school, Nora reached the ninetieth year, where not much was written - something about the centenary and an unprecedented level of performance compared to previous years.

Her attention was attracted by color photography - the Christmas concert, which drove all graduates. Next to the bustling Miss Fleming who is not changed since then with her hair and glasses, there was a young girl with a tired but beautiful face, who fell into the background obviously not of her own free will. She already began to wear spacious clothes, and tried to stay away from people, but this time, apparently, it didn’t work out. On the elbow of the girl lay a hand with a yellow sleeve, pulling to the side.

Nora printed the photo for herself and, even if the photo came out in black and white, she still seemed to see colors on it, cautiously tracing her finger on her mom’s wary face.

The site no longer had her photographs, either before or after, so this added value to this single copy. Having trimmed the photo frame, Nora hid it in one of the notebooks to take home. Maybe to put in mom’s diary.


	12. you are resist

* * *

Nora stopped only when she went around the corner of the school. She straightened the strap of the backpack and threw it over her shoulders again, now feeling that the weight was went evenly over her back.

She was about to go along the curb towards the highway, when suddenly someone called to her from behind. And, of course, the voice was already familiar, annoying and at the same time frightening her. God, no, today she had enough stress, she wouldn’t be able to withstand the Duke’s stepson...

“Hello, Nora.” He said, catching up with her and not even out of breath at the same time. A clear reproach was heard in his voice. “You are avoiding me?”

“Hi.” She answered. “I avoid everyone.”

“I don’t know which city you used to live in, but in Sherwood it’s very difficult for hiding from everybody.” Isaac almost grinned. “I only went up to ask what you decided about the party.”

“I won’t go.” She answered right away. “I need to catch up with the study, there is no time.”

The guy looked at her with a grin, obviously wanting to sting. She herself knew that all of her current classmates had heard her conversations with teachers very well, and knew very well that she had almost nothing to catch up with on. And yet, she didn’t apologize for such an terrible lie, and Isaac didn’t focus on this.

“Okay. But, if anything, the doors will be open for you...”

His persistence in this matter has already become the cause of her curiosity.

“Isaac, why do you insist on my presence there?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. “Didn’t you understand that you won’t find anything sensible in me?”

“You don't look stupid.” He grinned. “Anyone at this school has two ways - to become either one of the Sherwood Eagles, or a game for Edith, Emily, Elena and bitches like them. And you have the potential, and I would be sorry to watch you bury it...”

“Since, you say, you can become either an eagle or a game, then who are you?” Nora poked a finger at him. “Try to tell me that you are special and don’t consider yourself to be anyone of that. You play for the school team in one of the most important positions, probably in the first team, you sit in the dining room at a large table surrounded by friends, and you can even be rude to Edith Streep. So you're a ‘bitch like them’, Isaac. Like all eagles. I'd rather live for six months being a game.”

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Someone with his message just got at the right time, until their conversation turned into a fight.

** _JD:_ **

_I promised I would show you something in Sherwood._

_If you are still interested, come to the old tech dump from the side of non-residential building._

Wow, he came to his senses even faster than she thought.

“Hey, Mackenzie?” Nora looked up at him. “Where is the old tech dump?”

“Somewhere a mile to the north.” He showed the direction with his hand. “What's the matter?”

“I'm going to eat carrion, as befits a game.” She muttered. “Thanks for the help and care for my person.”

“And still, the invitation is still valid!” He shouted into her back.

Nora rolled her eyes, walking faster and faster.

She walked for more than half an hour in only direction, and when she was already thinking of asking someone for help, she noticed a large-scale site, fenced by a sufficiently high fence so that it could be seen from afar. And there was no need to peer at the shabby sign to understand that she got to that very dump - filled with dark piles of various equipment, somewhere already covered with grass and dismantled to the smallest cogs.

The closer Nora got to the dump, the more clearly she realized that every third house was empty. At the high fence, in general, all the houses were abandoned and dismantled; the plots were clearly not monitored for a long time. She kept looking for that very deserted abandoned house, cursing JD with all the unflattering words for the fact that, knowing how everything was arranged here, he decided not to specify exactly where to approach her. In the end, the girl half walked around the dump before she noticed him.

Father sat on the threshold of one of the houses, which seemed to be the most intact of all the surrounding buildings, and smoked, tapping a fake foot with some unknown rhythm.

“I thought you'd get there faster.” He said, taking a look at her.

Nora froze, but after a second frowned and folded her arms over her chest.

“I thought you'd better told me about the place.” She replied. “And why are we here? Have you... have you read at least something?”

Father nodded to her. He nodded restrainedly, looking away a thoughtful look. He immediately put out his cigarette and stood up, clenching his fists. A wave of tension and... anger emanated from him.

“Everything.” He answered shortly. “And that’s why we’re here.”

Nora noticed oblong objects lying behind him. Father, following her gaze, picked them up and threw her a shabby old bat, which she barely caught with one hand - it was a heavy thing. It almost hit her forehead, but Nora didn’t complain about it.

Looking up, she saw a crowbar in her father's hands. She didn't like that anymore.

“If we rob someone...” She began.

“Follow me.” He said sharply, annoyingly interrupting her.

He had never interrupted her. And he didn’t speak to her in such a tone. Nora hesitated before going after him. She didn’t know what pissed him off like that - her morning trick or mom's record. Accordingly, she didn’t know what to fear and what to be prepared for. Maybe he went nuts and decided to have a duel with her. Although, he looked too restrained for this. Well, was ‘restrained’ is exactly word? He was so quickly run to the fence that his trench coat was still fluttering in the wind.

JD did his job so deftly that Nora didn’t immediately understand what he had done. Quickly and without much effort, he bent one wooden board, and then pushed it to the side.

“Faster, go ahead.” He muttered.

“What if I don’t want to?” Nora asked cautiously, clutching the bat firmly with both hands.

JD rolled his eyes. “They will notice us. Least of all I would like to get into the police with you for trespassing of state property. So crawl faster. In addition, my hands, unlike my legs, are not made of iron.”

Sighing, Nora obeyed, although the brain sent signals, or rather, shouted that this shouldn’t be done. She found herself in a nook with an old kitchen utensil - a small system of variegated refrigerators, boxes on which countless electronics stood - from early blenders to the last microwaves.

JD barely crept along, grunting decently. Such a hitch affected his behavior even worse. He completely frowned and wilted, his gaze darted from one pile of garbage to another, constantly passing his daughter.

“Let's go.” He breathed, leading her further through this strange maze.

There were weed bushes, low trees with already fallen leaves, and stale grass underfoot. Surrounded by shorted wires, cold metal and cracked plastic, Nora began to freeze, so she wrapped her sweater tightly.

Then, the electronics dump suddenly became the dump of cars. They began to appear more and more, until Nora was tired of noticing the rusty cars with her eyes. Of course, the old small steel parts were lying underfoot, only the grass didn’t grow here, crushed by numerous wheels. The track was recent.

“Where are we going?” Nora asked, breaking the tense silence.

“I...” JD slouched. “You will see now.”

Nora removed obsessive disheveled strands from her face to look around better. In these confused paths, one could easily get lost. In the end, she saw their target from afar. Now it’s clear where the fresh traces of the big car came from. Tow truck.

‘Ford Victoria’.

Standing on wheels is pretty confident, except maybe squinting on its side. It didn’t look as scary as was shown in that photo. The roof was dented, the paint was scratched, the body on the driver's side...

Nora felt nauseous. She turned away and covered her eyes, trying to calm her panic breath. She heard that JD's footsteps fell silent, she saw from the corner of her eye that he was standing aside and waiting for her, patiently and guilty looking at her noticeable torment.

“Why are we here?” Repeated Nora.

“It’ll be taken away from day to day, and you’ll not be able to see it again.” The father shrugged. “But you have to look. And, even more than that, we have every right to finish it off.”

Nora just looked up at him in amazement, then looked up at the car. Mom's car! Mom’s ‘Victoria’! Once wonderful, with a light beige color, cozy, their family car, for which mom saved for a long time. It traveled to several cities and companies with mom, before going on the last joint journey. Nora came closer, trying to peer at the seats. In the backseat, she slept while riding, dined and read books, brazenly throwing her legs straight on car seats, and sometimes sticking them out the window when they stopped in the parking lot or curb.

The interior, which mom looked after so manically to give it a business look, was hopelessly spoiled. The seats were torn, bent, the glove compartment was torn out, the panel was broken, the mats are shifted, inside were dirt, water, glass chips and... blood. It seems that there wasn’t very diligently washed.

“Do you want to finish it off?” Nora asked in a steel tone, not turning her face to JD, avoiding his gaze.

“I want us to finish it together. Because sooner or later we have to smash something, otherwise we’ll tear ourselves or people who are dear to us. I have rich experience in this.”

A crooked smirk curved Nora's tight lips for a moment, she shook her head. Despite the ironic nature of the remark, JD was right. Although she was now not as desperate as in the early days, now she also had a hard time. She couldn’t forget about the ES-girls, who somehow drove her into a trap (from which she didn’t even think to get out), then the Duke’s stepson, who was arrogant and hypocritical (he’s clearly taught this from his stepmother), then Martha's husband, whom Nora almost killed, and Martha herself, clearly suffering from Stockholm syndrome...

“I took that gun of yours.” JD said. “An old bookshelf is not a good place to hide such things from prying eyes...”

“No need to meddle in the attic!” She growled. “I pasted a sign that there is nothing to do there!..”

“And, as the owner of the house, I was curious.” JD said. “And I also have to prevent any extreme surprise. It was blank, did you know?”

Nora didn’t answer this question, because, of course, she didn’t know a damn thing. She didn’t think about it when she encountered Martha’s husband, and didn’t think about it later. She didn’t check the mag because she could only shoot, not reload. In the booklets on the day of Self-Defense, rather meager instruction was given.

“And where did you get it from?” JD came closer, Nora strained her whole body, still not looking at his face.

Nora thought about poor Martha and Ram. Aunt so swore to protect her, she fought so much for her well-being, so often reproached JD with help of Aunt Heather, and now she shouldn’t became a scapegoat.

“It doesn't matter.” She shrugged, still clutching the bat tightly, leaned on the ground with it.

“I doubt this is a boring story about an underground arms dealer.” Father squinted.

“It’s your right to doubt.” Nora sighed, not knowing where to put her eyes.

JD stood to her right, in front of her was a wrecked car, in the back - a maze of metal, on the left - tall grass.

“I agree that I need to vent my emotions, but I won’t do this on this auto.” She said, looking over the web of cracks in the windows that hadn’t yet fallen. “Why not any other?”

“Because it’s about an accident. This is it that we need to finish off and let go.”

“Don’t teach me your principles.” Nora muttered, glancing towards him. “I don’t want to do the same with my first love later. Was my mother your first love?”

“Nora!” Father raised his tone, turning her to him.

She wasn’t afraid of him this time, looking him directly in the eye. At this moment, she didn’t regret that JD wasn’t in her life from the very beginning. It was terrible to imagine what he could teach her.

“This has nothing to do with what happened on our last day! I didn’t do this because of my principles, I didn’t want to use Veronica for my purposes, on the contrary I tried to rid her of problems...”

“Bravo!” Nora shouted back. “Amazing work! The boyfriend of the year!”

With a roar, father swung and hit the car. He hit the roof next to the rear window. It fell to their feet. Nora first staggered back, and then stared at her father in amazement. He was trembling with anger and grief, either wanting to run up to her and make excuses, or wanting to continue to beat the Ford.

“There was no other way to solve this problem. Your mother was in serious danger, she would have been broken life, one way or another. You saw her notes, you are smart and you can understand it yourself. What could happen to her would be much worse...”

“AARCH!” Nora swung the bat, and struck with all her strength, hitting trough the doorway on the panel, breaking it into the trash. Parts scattered to the side. “You! What could be worse? She killed people, she lost a love, she raised a child alone, and **now she is dead**!”

“She wanted to kill Heather. You know that she wanted it.”

“Wanting and doing is not the same thing! Children grow up and get used to the fact that not all desires come true, that one must be above this! I already grew up, and then you were just a kid, right?” Nora shook a bat, walking a thin line here. “You saw the notes too. She was sorry! Sincerely regretted!”

JD turned a crowbar in his hand. “Not for so long. Imagine what would happen if Chandler was alive now? Imagine what would happen to your mother!”

Chandler promised her to block the paths to all the surrounding cities, ruin her mother’s life, and make her a trash rat. But mom would still find a way to handle it...”

“She went to apologize to her.” Nora growled.

“We were there together, and she asked her for forgiveness.” JD grinned. “Chandler didn’t forgive her. She made Veronica kneel down and beg, but then she also didn’t forgive. And only then she drank that cleaner. I could have stopped her earlier, but after what she started to do with Veronica... Veronica made it up later, because she really understood that without Heather, life became better for the whole city.”

“And Kurt and Ram?”

“Two rapists who beat and humiliate the weakest? Veronica didn’t grieve because of their murder, but because I lied to her, and she was also scared. In the beginning.”

“She was afraid of you! She ran away from you, and she had to fake suicide! You could kill her too!”

“I couldn’t.” Father shook his head confidently.

“You beat her. Beaten up to cracks in the ribs and a broken nose.” Nora growled menacingly.

Her features were distorted by bestial anger, her eyes turned red. She didn’t notice the tears running down her cheeks. With a gasp, Nora hit the car again, then again, and again.

“You! Beat! Her!” Swing. “And you wanted to shoot her! Urgh!”

Nora hit next to JD, hitting the frame, but almost hitting her father, and judging by the look, she would like to hook him. After a series of blows, she stood in front of him, gasping for breath and the tears that choked her.

“You asked her, ‘_What are you gonna do with your life?_’ Thought that she can’t live without you, that she’ll become the same as all these scum. You thought she was nobody without you! It’s you are nobody without her, you are crazy without her, just a sick bastard!”

“_I know!_” JD struck the trunk with a crowbar with such force that he pierced it through. “I know I’m nothing without her, Nora!”

He, too, was choking. Also from despair and anger, although he didn’t cry, or rather, couldn’t. Nora, letting her sobs shakes herself, turned and walked away to the hood, resting her hands on it.

She, too, was nobody without a mother. No one in the world could understand her and calm her the way she did.

Veronica understood people so well. She understood so well how rotten this world was, and she tried to fix it, but she didn’t fix it, because, obviously, she realized that nothing would come of it.

It wasn’t worth returning to this hole. Here, until the end of time, the Heathers, Kurts and Rams would continue to be born, as well as other nameless children, whom they would burn, like ants under a magnifying glass.

“Fuck!”

Nora hit on the roof from the other side, then on the door, on the frame, on the headlamp, kicked the wheel before throwing the rumpled bat to the side and sit on the ground, leaning her back on the Ford. She clasped her head in her hands and sighed deeper, feeling a strange lightness when she sighed and when thinking. Her soul was dark, but her consciousness seemed to clear up. Hot blood run through the veins, and it was so warm that no frost was felt. Her heart pounded louder than any thought sounded in her head.

Opening her eyes, Nora stared into the gray sky.

She finished the trash. She took off the tension. She yelled at her father, finally saying everything to him, and, God, over the past month she wasn’t felt for a second as good as she was now.


	13. you are trying to get rest

She called Ram as soon as she got home. Nobody was here, and this alarmed her, because the school day was long over, and very soon Martha's working day ended.

“Mom knows that your father has arrived.” The young man answered awkwardly.

Nora, standing a second ago with a mug of tea in her hands, carefully set aside the mug so as not to hit it on the countertop.

“Ram,” she began, “do you remember what I told your mother in the morning?”

“Uh, yes.” He answered doubtfully. “We just thought you didn't need problems. Mom doesn’t get along with him, and your father, probably...”

“But you get along well with me!” Nora almost roared, but then she sighed quietly. It is amazing how easily she managed to calm down after the dump. “Tell Martha I'm still waiting for you. And I will not close the door for the night until you appear.”

Judging by his voice, he grinned. He grinned with a little sadness. Nora practically saw him averting a shy look, again feeling guilty for what he wasn’t to blame.

“Mom sleeps with a colleague, and refuses to leave her house.” He said. “And I will find a place for myself, you know. I’ve returned to my secret place and it doesn’t look so bad. I mean, it can be put in order...”

“Ram.” Nora sighed, covering her eyes. “You know you can rely on me. Have I done so little to prove it? Do you really think that I will surrender my father, although I haven’t surrendered with you?”

Ram was silent long enough so that Nora could hear her father's almost silent footsteps behind her. She turned around, stumbling upon the tired and, at the same time, curious gaze. Damn. She didn’t plan to speak with him again today after what was next to her mom's Ford, but apparently there was no choice. No matter how exhausted and broken the man seemed, he was not going to retreat.

“I don't know.” Ram finally answered. “Should I live with you? This is not masculine.”

“It's friendly.” Nora said. “You were planning to spend the night in the woods in October, seriously? Stop talking such nonsense.”

“Mom...” Ram took a breath. “Listen, she will worry about me. I'm not a sissy, but, nevertheless.”

“Pardon my French, she...” Nora pursed her lips, looking directly into the eyes of JD, who, raising his eyebrows, drank tea from her mug. This added fuel to her fire. “She's worried about you now, huh? Nice. I don’t want to offend Martha, Ram, she is almost like a mother to me, too, but she lived with this freak, your father, for so long, allowed him to made... all this, and now she worries that you will be with me, but a better option she herself cannot find. Does it sound like good fucking care?”

After a couple of moments, during which the excited breath of the young man was heard, Nora realized that she was very rude. This happened to her very often, but she was ashamed of it in very rare situations. For example, when she touched innocent people, especially those close to her.

Oh, and she blurted out such a careless tirade in the presence of JD. He even froze, listening. Nora hurried out into the living room.

“Ram. Sorry, Ram.” She said. “I just... Well, I'm worried, and I'm still nervous because of yesterday.”

Oh, and because of today too. If she goes crazy, then she will not notice it.

“I'm so scared for Martha and you. Well, the offer to live is always valid.” Nora sighed heavily. “I really don't blame Martha for anything. I…”

…“_love you_”. Could she say that? Did she manage to love them as a family? Just like she loved mom?

Nora immediately stopped, clutching the phone in her hands. No, she could never love someone as much as her mother. The unspoken words, which a second ago were heard in bitterness in the tongue, immediately disappeared.

“I understand.” Ram said, to her surprise, calmly, but with the same bitterness. “I'll talk to mom.”

“Thank you. Sorry again.”

“It’s nothing.”

The phone screen lit up brighter when the call was dropped. Nora put the clamshell phone in her pocket and returned to the kitchen, taking the mug to herself to make new tea. Or maybe some coffee.

“Since when did the Dunnstocks live with us?” Asked her father, less than ten seconds passed.

“Ever since they were mom’s friends, and since they became my friends. Mom always helped Martha, Martha helped me and you. I owe her a life. And Ram is just my friend. They were with me at my difficult moments, so I want to be with them at their difficult moment. And I'm sorry that I'm spoiling the weekend for you, but they will live with me as long as they need it. I know that you and Martha are having trouble, but she always suffers for my sake...”

“Obviously, for her husband, too.” JD grinned.

Nora nearly missed, spooning sugar. Grains barely scattered on the countertop. She frowned and brushed them off, as if she hadn’t heard the last sentence.

“My instinct tells me that you had the honor of talking to Miss Dunnstock’s husband in person.” Continued the father. “And the working gun with blanks that appeared with you isn’t a coincidence.”

“Okay, take it clear for good, I’ll be honest.” Nora turned to him. At the dump, it worked, they talked out, shouted, and understood each other, though each remaining with its own opinion and despair. “Her husband is a drunkard and a sadist who mocks her and his son. And, when this happened recently, I went to them to get them two out of there. I took them out and took the gun from him, but I didn’t have time to get rid of it.”

“But why didn’t you, the daughter of a lawyer, make an option with the police?” Asked the father, not so grinning.

Nora sighed again. Her hand with a mug trembled, but she quickly calmed down, reminding herself that it had passed. This bastard is alive and well, since he continued to spit poison...

“I tell you, I still have the gun.”

“And? I can bury it right now in a city park or next to a pasture.”

“I... was slightly over the acceptable defense.” Nora drank hot tea and winced at the fact that she had burned her tongue.

She avoided JD's gaze, but noticed that he, not a bit surprised, nodded.

“How much over?” He asked in a tone as if asking about an electric bill.

“Well, it seems like I broke him or something. His nose, for example. I can’t talk about it while I try to have a snack.” Nora barely glanced toward her father.

He nodded again, as if he were a bobble-head on the dashboard in the car.

“Alright.” He said, then suddenly adding. “Let your saved ones live with us as long as they want. You are obviously quite adult, and you are well aware of responsibility. I heard it very well at the dump.”

“Fine.” Nora muttered after him, dropping her eyes. She caught sight of her backpack, thrown into a chair in the living room. A second ago, she thought about the diary that her father had read, and in which she wanted to put a photograph.

She hesitated a couple of seconds before going to the backpack and pulling out a print out from there.

“Will you read the diary again?” She asked her father, who sat on the sofa.

JD was barely confused. He slammed his coat, in the inside pocket of which, obviously, that very important thing was.

“Maybe I will. Yes, I will.” He answered quietly.

“I just wanted to... Put something in there. While it isn’t lost, I want to do it right now...” Nora awkwardly stepped forward, holding a folded sheet of paper in her hands.

The man took out a diary and handed it to her. Nora put a photo on one of the last pages. It was record about the last days of pregnancy, and about how she, an unborn child, stubbornly kicks from the inside. Nora hastily closed the diary and extended it back, quickly looking around the living room, so that tears wouldn’t fill her eyes.

“I'm going to do my homework.” She muttered softly.

However, Nora didn’t even have time to take up biology, such a confusion stood in her head. Thoughts, which made a lump came to her throat, and memories tearing her heart apart, continued to shake her until a knock was heard below at the door. When Nora came down, her father was no longer in the living room. Wherever he went, she wasn’t up to him.

Out of the door, to the great joy and embarrassment of Nora, was Ram. Flushed and awkward, he looked at her, and she looked at him, mentally trying to find the words for the next apology.

“Come in...” She told him without having come up with anything coherent, quickly letting him into the living room, which was much warmer than the cool October evening that reigned outside.

Ram took a couple of awkward steps, looking around the rooms first.

“And where?..” He asked, obviously looking for not something, but someone.

“In his room, probably.” Nora shrugged, realizing without a word that the conversation had gone about her father. “Are you hungry?”

Ram shook his head confidently. Nora didn’t insist - her hands began to tremble, completely preventing her from messing with spoons and cups. She led the young man along to the attic and, seeing this corner, very cozy for a simple attic, Ram was hardly at a loss.

“This is... Well, my special place, in general.” Nora said. “That old chair is pulling out, but I haven't tried it yet. I think it’ll be nice to sleep here.”

Looking at the young man, she realized that he wasn’t only grateful to her, but also very touched. This whole topic with secret places obviously meant even more to him than she thought. Nora not only trusted her place to him - she let him in, gave an unlimited shelter, and made a comfortable conditions. She couldn't help but smile back.

“Where were you going to spend the night?” She asked, arms folded across her chest. “Did Martha’s colleague have no place?”

“She has one-bedroom apartment.” Ram shrugged. “I thought of going to the round-the-clock laundry, sitting there at night, and at the same time washing my clothes, I have some bucks...”

“What about... friends? Classmates?” Nora was embarrassed to ask about it.

“Oh.” Was heard from the young man. “Well. Somehow didn’t make it. I haven’t had any friends since elementary school.”

Nora put her hands on her hips, trying to somehow get rid of the feeling of shame that hung between them. It was necessary to stop talking about the personal. It was necessary to distract. Find another topic.

“Do you know Isaac Mackenzie?” _What the fuck, Nora._

“Mackenzie?” Asked Ram, sitting right down and feeling comfortable enough on the warm floor. “I heard that. On TV.”

“I mean the guy from high school who plays for the receiver in the team. Doesn’t matter. Forget.”

“No, I really heard. I just forget all sorts of details, but I'm sure I know about Mackenzie. Everyone in the city knows.”

The young man sat with a thoughtful look for about three seconds, and then raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, I heard something about that Mackenzie who is in school football. They showed a small video in the news. They talk about Westerburg High in the news because this Mackenzie is the son of the head of Sherwood Television or something like that.” Ram nodded to himself. “He plays football well, but I don’t know him personally.”

“Head of the Sherwood Television?” Nora narrowed her eyes.

“The local channel launches news broadcast over the Ohio channel once a week.” Ram nodded.

“I was just invited to a local party at his house. To this player.” Nora honestly told. “But I know nothing about him, except that he is a shit and his stepmother was in the same company with my mother for some time.”

“And he invited you to his party at home because...” Ram shrugged.

“Because I have some damn potential and I can fly with eagles, and not eat carrion.” Nora grimaced.

“Did he say that?” Ram raised his eyebrows.

“Almost like that.” Nora sighed. “It was close to that.”

“And you... don't want to fly with eagles?” Asked friend in such a confused tone. Looks like it really surprised him.

“Of course not!” Nora sharply turned on him. “Do I look like a megabitch?.. I mean,” she grinned, “do I look like a megabitch like them?”

“You don't look like that!” Ram shook his head right away. “Not like them, and not like a bitch.”

“Well, about the bitch - a moot point. Maybe you don’t know everything about me yet.”

The smile on her face became a kind of crooked from the suppressed shame. Ram really hardly knew her. They felt embarrassed again from the realization of this fact. An unspoken personal question hung in the air, which Ram was too shy to ask. Maybe he was afraid to get an answer, because it, obviously, wasn’t the most pleasant, judging by the way Nora recalled it.

“I was a big pain in the ass of the principal.” She said first, thinking that this could be shared with Ram. “Sometimes I didn’t care about the rest for the sake of my own goals. Rather, I always didn’t care about other people, but sometimes I crossed the line. My loudest reprimand was made when one boy put me down on Biology. We dissected frogs and prepared jars in the same lesson. It just happened that I got the best jar, and he, that dumbass asshole, added something... Uh, there was a terrific volcano with the amphibian insides.”

Ram grimaced, clearly imagining. Nora nodded with a sad grin.

“Yeah. But I'm pretty good at reagents, so I added something to him in response to Chemistry, right that day. It burned his clothes; there was a hole in his backpack and a couple of ugly marks on the desk. He could have burned his hands, but then I thought that he deserve it. And he would never put them where he shouldn't. The scandal was great. Mom had to pay for the damaged school property and for the things of that bastard. And this was my last reprimand, so I had to endure mockery until the end of the year, until I went to high school... And I still hardly regret it.”

Ram gave her a look, silently pondering what he heard. It was evident how he rushed about in doubt. Revenge was definitely deserved, but here was the intentional cruelty and not a bit of regret about this... There was a reason to feel the creeps creeping on the back.

“So I also had only a few friends.” Nora smiled wistfully.

She need to call Sharon. Surely her friend is bothering school journalists again, now even more often, because maybe she was bored without her. Nora really wanted to believe that someone miss her.

“And still, you're not a bitch.” Ram said.

“Usually they convinced me of the opposite.” Nora grinned. “And since then I don’t like all these ‘eagles’ and ‘lions’. Although they always had great parties, I must admit it. What would you do in my place?”

“I never spoke personally with the players of the football team. I wasn’t friends with anyone who at least stood next to them.” Ram shrugged, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Whatever scum they were, I would like to at least have a look at one of their legendary parties. You can always leave out there?”

“I think so.” Nora nodded. “Although I don’t really want to communicate with all these... ‘Eagles’”.

“Maybe there are normal people among them.” Ram suggested. “If you don’t try, you’ll never know, my grandmother was said that. Maybe you’ll never get another chance. And you can even better know what they are. You can make sure not everyone there is so bad, or you can make sure that they are all bastards there.”

“You're damn smart, Ram.” Nora smiled. And then she noticed that he was embarrassed. “You never heard that? Have you ever passed an IQ test?”

“No.” He shook his head awkwardly.

“If you believe my past teachers, I have ninety-six.” Nora smirked. “But my mother let me solve an individual test at home, and you know what? One hundred twenty nine points. This is a level of high intelligence bordering on genius. School underestimates us. Don't let them make you feel like you're really worth nothing. You are the smartest and most polite guy I have ever met.”

Ram looked up at her, as if not believing that she was saying this seriously. She nodded to him.

“The fact you are building tents and you cannot make friends doesn’t mean anything. I almost burned the boy’s hands because he made me angry. Looks like an ingenious act?”

The young man finally grinned, and then smiled a little more confidently.

“You gave me a very good thought.” Nora got up from her chair. “Maybe you understand something about party clothes?”

Ram shook his head, his eyes wide open in fear. Nora sighed, looking around the boxes, where for sure there should have been something decent - if not in mother’s things, then in her old rags.

Okay, there was still a whole day. If she couldn’t find anything suitable, she would always have time to change her mind a hundred times.

“Here is the blanket.” She pointed to the chair, as if Ram hadn’t seen it, then nodded at the book lying on the armrest. “You can read, look out the window. If the light needs to be turned off, pull that string above the hatch.”

“I get it.” He nodded. “Leaving so soon?”

Nora, already standing by the hatch, turned around, giving him a sympathetic look. Despite the stupid and unpleasant details of her past and present she had told him, he still wanted to continue talking. She realized even more clearly how lonely Ram was. And she immediately got sick of leaving, she was ready to sit here with him all night. There was a small TV, which she got from her grandfather. She could try connecting it, and even if they couldn’t catch the signal, they would at least keep themselves busy with something, but...

The muscles ached terribly. They even shake slightly, and hands trembled more and more. And there was such a mess in her head - for the first time she couldn’t build thoughts in a clear and understandable chain, and now it was completely impossible to make them into words. The events of this day, beginning with a passionate greeting for father, ending with this pep talk, were a bit stressful for her.

“I would love to stay.” Nora said sincerely. “But I'm exhausted. Really exhausted. And you need to sleep too.”

Ram nodded in understanding.

“Good night then.” He said. “And thank you again, Nora.”

“You are welcome.” Winked at him, which looked more like a nervous tick than a friendly gesture, she smiled, then opening the hatch. “Good night.”

Going down very carefully, Nora went to her room, and then, when she fell on the bed right in her clothes, she thought she would be waiting for tomorrow, whether she would go to the damn party or not.

She was now a gray mouse in the service of the ES-girls.

Jesus, what she managed to get involved in one fucking day.


	14. you are trapped

Breakfast was calm, despite all the fears. Ram had gone before Nora, and even JD had to get up. At least Nora understood this, because her friend wasn’t in the attic, and her father told her that he hadn’t seen anyone in the morning. So, Dunnstock was afraid to talk to someone in the morning, or he was tormented by guilt. Nora had no time to find out, she overslept for school, and hardly got out of bed - everything hurt so much.

JD was in the kitchen, eating pasta humbly, when his daughter rushes into the room, take a cup of cereal, filling them with milk and starting to eat them raw. Then they exchanged a couple of words, mostly awkward. Then Nora told him that she would go to a party in the evening. Father's reaction was restrained. He said that he wouldn’t spoil her fun with calls, but he hoped that she would return at least in the morning.

“I doubt that I will hang out with strangers there all night.” Nora shrugged, hastily washing herself by the kitchen sink.

“Depends where you find a charismatic kid - either there or on the way to home.”

The girl turned around, looking at her father an almost displeased, he barely smiled.

“Thank you for such an opinion of me.” She growled. “So you are warned, and I shouldn’t make excuses to you...”

“I have no doubt about you.” The man had to raise his tone to drown out her hasty tirade. “But about the Sherwood bastards, yes. By the way, Veronica’s first party ended not so well.”

“Have you been with her?” Nora asked, feeling curiosity drowning out her anger.

“After the party, she was a little drunk and... it happened, I was nearby. It was our first night.”

Nors grimaced and raised her hand.

“Don’t!” She asked. “I got it.”

“After school parties, children appears. I think you could also appear then...”

“JD, it's gross!” Nora hissed. “See you!”

She rushed to the bus stop, cursing everything — her father, herself, Isaac, all the Sherwood crap and the whole planet Earth, for that matter.

The bus came half an hour before the bell, the school locker jammed, so Nora got into class five minutes after the bell, quickly apologized and fell over at her desk, hastily taking out a notebook.

All the breaks went to avoid Isaac and ES-girls, who probably had some instructions. A deal’s a deal, yes, but she really didn’t want to see them today. Sitting in the library and hiding behind the oldest of computers, Nora recalled yesterday’s conversation with Ram, and although she agreed with him yesterday, today she doubted whether she needed all this. She even allowed herself to think about what if JD may be right. In mom’s time, the party with the queen of high school didn’t end with anything good.

“Does the computer acting up?” A timid voice came over her ear.

Nora looked at the chubby boy in small neat glasses. She saw him, knew, heard somewhere. It seems that the computer club was his haven.

“A little.” She admitted. “I can’t load the site.”

“It's easy to fix.” The guy smiled nervously, reached out to the computer mouse, cautiously approached his whole body. “My name is Kyle. I am the head of the Computer Club, and I understand all the computers in the school, I run school sites.”

“Nora Sawyer, nice to meet you.” She replied.

“Oh, I know you. Emily said she’s get along with you.” Kyle made a couple of mouse clicks; several icons appeared and disappeared so quickly that Nora didn’t have a time to look at them. “Apparently, the problem is in the host computer. I'll go to him now, and when I say, click here.”

“Yeah, got it.” Sawyer nodded, turning her gaze to the guy. “Do you talk to Emily? And with others... with her friends?”

“Edith is in charge of all the clubs, I always see her at meetings. To Emily, I help with the Westerburg group in Facebook . And Elena often writes notes for posts.” Kyle shrugged awkwardly. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

She looked him up to one of the computers, and then turned to the screen. So Kyle received orders from the Streep , and also helped Emmeline to work with Facebook . Nora was wondering how much she needed his help.

“Now click.” The guy said.

Nora clicked the mouse, and the Internet turned on after a few seconds. If she can believe the icon at the bottom of the screen.

“It works.” She nodded with a smile. “You are just a master of computer science! Master of technology!”

“They called me that, yes, but in fact there is nothing complicated...” He muttered, noticeably embarrassed.

“And how good are you in Facebook ? And what kind of group do you have there, can you show me?” Nora propped her head on her hand, looking at Kyle with a curious look, and not forgetting to smile warmly.

Kyle pulled a chair closer, sat next to her, eagerly grabbing the mouse again for himself.

“Well, I understand the lotions of the site. Even once I had to delve into the code when one of our computers stopped showing words as it should. Emily doesn’t know computers, but she has all the journalism, so I help her publish information.”

“Do you publish from your page?” Nora asked, looking at the familiar blue site design.

She noticed an avatar, but Kyle answered earlier than she managed to notice that this image didn’t look like his face.

“No, we... in general, not everyone are allowed into the administration. Emily wants everything to look decent, and we, well, spoil the background. So everything is published and edited from her page. Sometimes Elena helps her from her computer. Here is our group.”

Nora remembered the name, address of the site, and then allowed herself to consider nicknames and photos. Posts were look like school newspapers. Everything was presented here, as if in the tabloid - with a lot of favoritism, objectively, curses and insults slipped through. But the photos were of high quality.

“And someone reads this?” Sawyer asked . “Does everyone like this? Do teachers know about this?”

“Everyone reads and everyone is happy. Emily makes information so interesting! She is a true patriot of Westerburg and Sherwood. And if you tell the teachers, everyone will be punished, it was already a year ago. Then Edith simply destroyed the girl who leaked us. She had to leave school. Miss Fleming didn’t approve, but for many years she fought for the unity of the whole school, and now we are united as never before, the highest score among students is above average, and our football team has been holding the first place in the district for five years. She believes that this is due to Edith, Emily and Elena.”

“I see.” Nora nodded. “Thanks for helping, Kyle.”

“Oh, come on, it's my duty.” He had hidden an awkward look. “If you need me, the computer will break again or something else, I'll be here or at the Computer Club.”

“Understood.” Sawyer said . “See you.”

“Yeah. See you.” Kyle, backing away, walked away from her desk, and then hastily ran to another computer, behind which he hid his face.

Nora checked if the Facebook tab is open. To her disappointment, Kyle managed to log out of Emily's account. However, Nora didn’t need it so far, so she wasn’t particularly upset, and continued to think about the evening at Mackenzie's house .

After class, there was time to eat, but Nora forgot about lunch and dinner. First, she dug up a decent skirt and T-shirt in her unfolded things - all in blue tones. An old shabby black jean jacket was found in the closet. The gray ballet shoes that Heather M. gave her along with some things turned out really good choice. Then Nora again sat in the attic, but this time relieve her boredom by starting to install an old TV set, which seemed to work out the second time around, because it didn’t want to turn on without a remote control. Then silence came - so unwanted and terrible, because in silence thoughts appeared.

What if they treat her like they did with mom? Even JD was sure of it. Although he lived in Sherwood nothing at all, how could he judge from just one incident? If they offended Veronica, Nora could not have the same fate. At least she really wanted to believe it. Times have changed, right? Almost twenty years have passed.

She wanted to take up mom’s diary and re-read it again, turn to her again, and hear her longing voice inside her head. But even more she wanted to see her live, talk to her personally, touch her. At least in a dream. Why did she dream of the bitch Chandler, whom she knew only from the diary entries?

Mournful thoughts hurt her head, but Nora didn’t take the medicine. She wasn’t going to drink, but didn’t want to take risks if she suddenly had to take another sip.

The right hour came suddenly, abruptly, and the sprightly voice of an announcer on television announced the start of seven-hour news. Nora left the house very quickly, deciding to spend some time looking for the right street and home. She got on the bus, asked the driver, who drove her to the stop, and he was saying that it was about five minutes walk. He lied because Nora passed at least ten before she noticed the bright neon light and the buzz makes by loud children from afar. There could be no mistake, unless suddenly some other guy decided to throw a party for teens that evening and in the same area.

Nora put her hands in her pockets, approaching the threshold. Everywhere in the yard there were cars, including the lawn. She would like to see how Mackenzie will make excuses to his parents, unless, of course, they don’t care. All other entrances, and the whole yard was closed, so she had to go straight to a bunch of guys from whom she can heard a loud confident laugh. It was clearly not lemonade that was spilled in the cups they all held in their hands. The guys gave her a sober look, as she getting too close.

“Can you move?” Asked Nora, feeling uncomfortable. Maybe because she had to look at them straight up.

“We can, if you give your phone number.” Replied one of the boys, he was dressed in a sport jacket. Apparently, the impudence of the Sherwood football players was an airborne infection.

Nora said her number in a quick tone, not taking her eyes off the guy's face, which gradually took on a bewildered expression.

“I gave it.” said Sawyer. “Now let me pass.”

“Repeat it.” the footballer asked.

“I'm not going to make a parrot out of myself.” Nora raised an eyebrow. “Get away.”

“No way!” Exclaimed to her. “Fuck you, it’s for being so rude!”

“Fuck you, too!”

Nora turned off them, seriously intending to go home, because this Isaac can go fuck himself with his friends, but a familiar voice was heard behind. ‘Speak of the devil’, just like Heather McNamara said.

“What's that noise?” Smiling from ear to ear, Isaac stepped on the threshold, and then focused his eyes on her. “Sawyer! You have come! I'm glad to see you!”

“Me too...” She looked around at the guy with whom she was fighting, he drilled her back. “Me too.”

“Let's go! Go-go!” Grabbing her hand, Mackenzie first dragged her into the hallway, where in the darkness it gave out a red light. As it turned out, someone's burgundy translucent bra was swinging on the chandelier.

Nora, of course, heard the noise from the outside, but couldn’t even imagine _how_ loud was inside, right at the epicenter of this puberty chaos. She grimaced, thinking that she would definitely be deaf for a while. Isaac had to scream, but Nora didn’t understand half his words, only nodded to him and the people he met, with whom Mackenzie introduced her in passing.

The end point of their passage through the living room was a huge table, laden with cups and barrels. Here she could even see cherries in liquor, slices of lime laid out on a plate closer to the bottle, which definitely smelled of tequila. The tart aroma of different types of alcohol hit her nose, and Sawyer's eyes started to wet, but her mouth too. It looked seductive, need to admit.

“I will go, throw the bomber in the room, and you have a drink for now!” Isaac shouted, releasing her forearm from his grip. The muscles responded with pain. Now there was a new bruise.

Nora nodded in response, barely smiling, but, of course, she wasn’t going to drink, because she didn’t see a decent snack on the table. Among the things that wasn’t soaked in alcohol or prepared with its addition, there was only lime. Nevertheless, Nora picked up a glass with something, so as not to stand out among the crowd. Sniffing the drink, she wrinkled, almost drunk from one smell, and then looked at the bottle with the same clear liquid that stood nearby. Mexican tequila, great. The owner of this glass would hardly have returned for him; he was hardly able to walk at all.

Two minutes of noise, dim flickering light and jerking lanky guys before her eyes were enough to pass a verdict on this party - total mess. No organization, rules or purpose – just a drinking party for everyone. Someone in the far corner thrown the lid of the pan, like a frisbee, and it flew into a picture in a frame hanging dangerously close to Nora. Glass fell on the floor, an approving roar swept through the room, drowning out the rhythm of the track for a moment. Then Sawyer realized that she should leave, but, trying to smooth her rudeness, she first decided to say goodbye to Isaac, and for this he needed to be found, since he had been throwing a bomber in his room for too long.

Nora went to the stairs to the second floor and climbed into the corridor, in which several doors were located up to the window. Behind the first door at the very staircase, the sound of a cleared stomach was heard. Most likely there was a bathroom. Fortunately, Nora didn’t want to use it. She went further, already hearing the expected moans behind some next door. There was also a corner in the corridor, behind which was a room with cleaning equipment. Some sounds were heard there. And while Nora cautiously passed by, two fell out of this closet. The guy, quickly rising, winked at the girl and disappeared on the first floor, and his girl, rising, brushed off her T-shirt and slightly adjusted the makeup on her lips. In the darkness, Sawyer didn’t immediately see her face, and then almost groaned in despair, because it was too late to run, Emily Slopper clearly recognized her.

“Nora!” She exclaimed, still trying to catch her breath. “You are here, wow.”

“Yeah, wow.” Nora nodded awkwardly, trying to look away from her drawn denim skirt. “I was just looking for Isaac, I have to go home.”

“But the party has just begun!” Emily smiled wider, grabbing her hand. “You always have time to leave. Come along, find Edith and Elena!”

“No!” Nora answered too sharply, tugging her hand at herself, and then answered softer. “I mean, I would love to talk, but I... seriously, I have to go.”

“It is a pity, but we hoped to have a drink with you somehow.” Emmeline tempered her enthusiasm a little, but her sly smile still couldn’t leave her blurry lips. “That’s yours?”

Her eyes fell on the glass in Nora's hands, she, too, glancing briefly at the alcohol, nodded.

“Do you drink tequila? Wow…”

“That's right... A sip of it.” Sawyer saluted her with a glass. “I just somehow forgot to put it on the table, and now I'm carrying it.”

“Can I?”

“Of course.” She relieved, giving Emily the glass.

“Would you like a last drink?” Asked Slopper.

“No.” Nora shook her head.

Not with one of the ES-girls for sure.

Emily took the glass and sighed, looking again at Nora. There was a pause, during which even the energetic music in the background didn’t save the awkward atmosphere.

“Listen, as long as this is the case.” Emmeline spoke up. “I should have said before, like all of us. It just didn’t turn out to be a good moment, but I shouldn’t delay it with such things... So, I am sorry for you.”

The shoulders tightened immediately.

“I didn’t know your mother, Veronica Sawyer, but she must have been a great woman. I can’t even imagine how scary and hard it must be to lose such a close person.” Emily continued.

Nora clenched her fists and her jaw. She raised her burning eyes, waiting for a reason - even a single word. All this, something told her, wasn’t for nothing. This is hypocrisy. Clear hypocrisy, because Slopper didn’t really know Veronica Sawyer, just like her daughter did, but at the same time made some speeches, some condolences, which Nora continued to violently hate.

“For Veronica Sawyer.” Emily took two sips, then exhaled and took a breath for a couple of seconds before extending the glass back to her daughter. “For Veronica Sawyer, to the bottom.”

Nora got anger, real anger. Damn provocateur. She wanted to splash this tequila in her face. Nora grabbed the glass, but froze for a second, hesitating. If she doesn’t drink for her mother, what will she be? In memory of mom, it wasn’t worth splashing drink. In memory of mom... If she was alive, she would have sharply opposed, threw this glass from her hands. “Nonsense!” Her scream sounded almost over her ear.

But she wasn’t here, and the tequila was still splashing in a glass.

Nora held her breath before three big sips burned her throat.

* * *

“Fuck you, we need Nora!”

“Enough for her, I said, get out of here, otherwise I'll throw you out the window!”

“Try me, you!..”

Nora sighed, clutching her head countless times in the evening. At the same time, she released the glass from her hands (already the third?..) and leaned on the wall. The dim light from the desk lamp was so soft, so pleasant. In Isaac’s room, she liked more and more. He himself slammed the door and locked himself from the inside, and then turned to her with a tired smile, ignoring the cries of Emily and Elena from the outside. He was the hero of her evening!

“Nora...” He sighed. “How did you manage to get along with them?”

“I... have no idea!” She answered hardly sadly. “We talked about mom.”

“I heard.” Isaac sat beside. “Are you okay?”

“I’m… or I’m not. I don’t know.” Nora glanced again at the glass, and only now noticed a wet spot on the carpet. “Oh, f-f-fuck! Sorry, I'm behaving like a swine!”

“Compared to the rest, you're a much smaller swine.” Isaac grinned. “If you weren’t here, I would just have thrown these freaks out, but I see at least there is someone normal among them.”

“You’re lying!” Said Sawyer, grinning. “You wouldn’t thrown your friends out. You like the party, only the blind one will not notice.”

“Okay, you caught me.” Muttered Isaac, frowning so funny, makes Nora giggle again. “And you?” She stopped laughing, staring at him. “Did you like the party?”

Sawyer didn't really remember the last half hour. Somewhere on the second glass of beer that Elena gave her to try, she forgot her name for a couple of minutes. The whole party for her was some kind of running around. She kept someone from a fight, it seems. Or she almost got into a fight. She laughed a lot, sort of, and didn’t let the cups out of her hands while she was grabbed by the arms and dragged in different directions: either to the table, then to the tape recorder, then to the stairs. So she was here when Isaac caught her, but she didn’t notice. What was this whole party about? Nora never get the point of such a fun. She couldn't even figure out if she had fun herself. It seemed funny to her all the time, but why did she laugh? Maybe without some real reason.

“I don’t know.” She answered a little thoughtfully. “I never understood the fun of parties. I don’t like them. Well, you know, because of the people.”

“We just need to rest.” Isaac said, smiling again and looking into her face.

“That's right.” Nora sighed. “So, I need to focus...”

Closing her eyes, she scraped into a pile the last bits of her poor brain, broken by post-traumatic pain and booze. She had to go home. She was looking for Isaac to go home. What time was it? Oh, God, what if JD would come to her?

“I'll go home.” She said with a share of fear, trying to get out of bed.

“No wait!” Isaac’s hand was on her shoulder, pushing and forcing to sit back. “I mean, you and I need to relax. We can dance.”

“I'm tired, Mackenzie.” Nora shook her head, now feeling stuffy, which intensified all the unpleasant odors, it seemed a thousand times. “All this nonsense with dancing... And ES-girls... That is, Elema, Edin, Enip.... I meant Eden...”

“I get it.” Isaac shook his head. “I'll be with you, okay? This time I won’t leave, I promise. And I won’t give you to anyone. After the party, and every day.”

“No. Sorry.” Nora squealed again, starting to rise, but then the light in her eyes faded, and her face was seared with a hot breath.

He kissed her, she understood only after a couple of seconds. Isaac kissed her, still holding with his hands. Her whole body was shook, fire sirens hummed in the head, and what was happening slightly sobered Nora, even if only for a few moments.

“No!” She exclaimed, pushing him away. “Bad idea! Very bad!”

“But why?” He wondered, still resisting the pressure of her hands on his chest.

“Because I'm not a fucking girl scout!” Nora jumped to her feet. “Thanks for the evening, Isaac!”

Almost tripping over her jean jacket, she grabbed it from the floor and, turning the latch on the door, jumped out into the corridor, hearing a protest from behind. And she even more wanted to run away from here, and as far as possible. From drink, smelled of everything here, from Mackenzie, from ES-girls with their grandiose plans for the night, into which they almost pulled her in.

Sawyer had already rushed to the entrance when she saw on the threshold Edith Streep, smoking with one of the players. Emily stood there, with her back to her, and Elena was concentrating on typing something on the phone, propping herself against the wall in the hallway. Cursing, Nora rushed to the window on the veranda, which seemed spacious enough to crawl out through it. She fell right on an easy-chair, and then she flopped heavily on the floor, right to the joy of a couple snogging here in the corner.

“What the fuck?” Muttered the guy, covering himself with his girlfriend.

“Dreadful etiquette, I apologize.” Nora answered grunting, and then, when she straightened up, she smiled awkwardly. “Go on. Goodnight.”

And she disappeared in the night, running right to where she came from, the bus stop.

She seemed to run for ages before she saw the pleasant cold light of a lantern. Nora clung to a cold stone, hugging a pillar with her hands, and then, catching her breath, fell on a bench, although she didn’t have to wait long. It wasn’t a city bus passing by, but a bus with employees of a local company, driving them home. Nora stopped him, almost jumping out onto the road. A slightly surprised driver let her into the cab, and then, changing his surprise to anger, demanded that she pay him twice. Nora shook all the little things that were in her pockets, and, clinking with coins, put them in the hands of a man.

“Thank you.” She muttered, and then sat away, to the very end.

Looking out the window, she noticed a figure frozen at a distance from the stop. It was Isaac, he was breathing heavily, leaning on his knees. Apparently, he must’ve chased her. Whatever kept him at home, giving Nora a head start, she was terribly grateful. With disgust, wiped her weathered lips, she almost spitting, drew the curtain.

She really shouldn't have come here.


	15. you are unlocking the locks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some art from my good friend. This is still freaking me up. (There is Ram, Nora and Isaac)
> 
> Aaaaaand some videos, cause i want and i can so why the fuck is not?

[Heather FF | You're Not On Your Own (trailer) | Where is my mind](https://vk.com/videos-165657715?z=video-165657715_456239024%2Fclub165657715%2Fpl_-165657715_-2)

[Heather fan fiction | You Are Not On Your Own (teaser) | Message Man](https://vk.com/videos-165657715?z=video-165657715_456239021%2Fpl_-165657715_-2)

* * *

Pain. Throbbing. Every second, the head was torn to pieces by a colorful explosion, and then it was collected and stitched ugly to break again in a second. Thinking was painful!

Nora moaned, and then realized that she shouldn't have done that. In general, she shouldn't have woke up. It was like a car moving over her. Twice, or even thrice. Everything in the room burned with a clear flame, the colors mixed and blurred before her eyes. For the first ten seconds she saw nothing but a red veil through which the outlines of the room could be seen. Then, when Nora froze and stopped moving, it became easier. The squeak in her ears became easier, like the muscle tremor, in the eyes darkened again, and grace came. It would be much better to die and get wanished in a cool little unknown... Cool as a glass of ice water!

Her throat tightened right away, and Nora took a deep breath of dusty air, started choking. Turning her head and groaning again, she didn't want to open her eyes for a long time, but she had to, because it's just popped out of her head from a new attack of migraine.

"Holy fuck!" Heard some hoarse voice. Then Nora realized that it was her voice.

The throat simply burned with thirst and pain at the same time. Lucky Chandler, she died quickly! Sawyer noticed on the bedside table beside her bed was a full mug, a strange smell coming from it. A note was attached to all of this.

As soon as she got up (her head clearly outweighed the body, and clearly can pull it to the floor), Nora took a piece of paper, streaked with her father's handwriting.

_“Drink me to the bottom. In a couple of minutes you’ll start to come to your senses.”_

She followed the instructions, emptying the mug in one gulp, and then for the first moments fought with vomiting from the disgusting taste of an unknown mixture. JD decided to play a joke. He scoffed, yes. Decided to finish it off? Why so painful? Maybe she did something to him yesterday, when she returned home?

Minutes flowed slowly, time and space seemed a flowing lava, which carried its way through her head. Gradually, came an understanding of where she was and how she ended up here in her room. Memory returned slowly, with a common plot without unnecessary details.

Nora wanted to lie back and lay down for at least a century, until everything cleared up, and until the headache stopped putting pressure on the brain like that. Okay, maybe, by some miracle, this rubbish helped her. But now she was thirsty. Very much. Unfortunately, father didn't leave an extra bottle of mineral water nearby, as if luring it out like an animal from a cave. In fact, Nora knew she looked like an animal - she smelled the same way, and she made the same growling sounds.

Looking out with a mug in her hand, she heard a quiet conversation below. She didn't attach much importance to this, already starting to get used to the noise, so when Nora had already come down and saw JD and Ram in the kitchen sitting at the same table and leading the conversation, she was noticeably confused.

"Nora!" Damn it, Ram noticed her.

And by the way, his exclaim echoed in the skull. Nora grabbed her head, immediately wrinkled.

“It's better not to scream like that.” Came the voice of her father. “Better yet don't even breathe. Good morning, Sunshine.”

Nora made a grin in response, and then passed by, right to the sink, to rinse the mug and fill it with cold water. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Ram grimaced. Yes, she was aware of how she smelled.

“This is from my clothes.” Nora muttered, glancing at him.

Then, in one gulp, she drained the glass, and began to filling the cup again.

“Don't lie to yourself.” JD said. "You look filthy. And feel, too, I suppose."

“Can you just be silent, huh?” Nora answered in a breaking voice.

Church bells rang in her head, playing 'Jailhouse Rock' by Elvis Presley.

“Let me just finish with Ram.” The kind answer came again.

“Sorry, but I'd better go.” Dunnstock muttered timidly. “I promised mom to have lunch with her. It was nice meeting you, JD."

“I could say the same!” JD smiled in response. “Come in whenever you wish!”

Nora groaned as her father raised his tone. She fell on a chair at the same table, and watched Ram to the door.

“See you, Nora.” He said, trying to speak softer. “Get well soon.”

“Thanks. See you.” With a wave of her hand, Nora put her head on the other hand, just to prevent her forehead from hitting the table or puking right here. Although she really wanted to. The door closed quietly, now they were alone. “What kind of act of personal generosity did you made? You don’t like Dunnstocks.”

“I like this guy. He is very naive and hasn’t been corrupted, and he’s, unlike Martha, got some balls. You can’t say so by first sight, right?”

Speaking of the first sight.

“What kind of rubbish was in the mug?” Asked Nora.

“Hangover remedy, a family recipe. ‘Prairie oysters’ for the most part, and a little from myself. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah.” She gave him a frown that looked more formidable because of the bags under her eyes. “Often had to cook it, huh?”

“Let's just say.” JD sighed. “I learned it before you were born.”

Now, Nora sighed, leaning on a chair. The nausea has stepped back, but now her eyes were hurt. In the living room and in the kitchen it was too bright. The sun was almost at its highest point.

“What time is it?” She asked.

“Past eleven.” Answered the father, looking at his watch. “You overslept half a day.”

“So yesterday I returned to...”

“...about the ten. We had a very pleasure talk, and you went to bed.” JD barely held back a grin.

“Just went to bed?” Nora asked again.

“Mumbled an apology for a long time. First in front of me, and then...” He hesitated.

“In front of mom. Yeah.” Nora knew she could do that. She was now ready to go and fall to her knees in front of an urn with ashes in it. She, damn it, failed at this dumb party! She failed not only herself, but also mom! “I’ll never ever go to these drinking blasts!”

She thought JD was tense. His face changed, a morbid curiosity flickered in his eyes. Nora thought for a couple of seconds, but then, realizing what he could imagine, she immediately exclaimed. “No, I didn’t sleep with anyone! And didn’t quarrel with the main bitch! My Heather, she’s more... uh, uncaring.” Nora suggested. “She almost doesn't give a damn about me. Her friends are, of course, annoying hypocrites and blackmailers. But I think now they’re feeling worse than me, because I left, and they continued to drink in the same spirit.”

JD frowned and looked away.

“Alright, forget about it. Now there is news that I just forgot to tell you.” His serious tone didn’t sound well. “Heather McNamara called you, I take it. So, two days ago she felt worse. Doctors came yesterday. So far she’s not feeling better, and she wanted to talk with you, but you were sleeping, so she asked me to tell you to visit her when you’ll be not busy...”

Nora rose to her feet, feeling the blood cool in her veins. Oh God. She was mired in her problems and completely forgot about Heather M., to whom, in fact, she owed everything - her health, clothing, and a quick solution to all paper problems, because she lent JD a car. Nora promised to visit her, she promised to call, and now, when she felt completely ill, she finally remembered...

“My God...” She breathed, her voice trembling. “I'm a fool. I need to go now! Where is she, in the hospital?”

“No, she’s at home.” JD got confused when he saw her vanity. “Do you really want to go to her now? With look like that?”

“Listen, she has cancer! Stage three! And she’s feeling bad, she’s calling me, but should I wait until my hangover passes? She has no time, so am I!”

“Don't you even change clothes?” Asked the father.

“Damn it, of course, I'll change clothes! And I go to the shower. I was in a big one petri dish and I’m not going to go to an ill on a drip like this.” Nora went to the stairs. “How could you forget such news?”

She quickly went upstairs, grabbed a change of clothes in her room, and ran to the bathroom, in a hurry. Standing under the streams of the shower, she washed her hair at the same time, not looking at the shampoo she had taken (it seems she got her father’s, due to the smell), and brushed her teeth, working with a brush as if she wanted to squeeze them out. And even almost hurt her tongue.

Nora took a shower in ten minutes, then hurriedly tied her naughty hair into tail, without really combing her hair, barely pulled her clothes on her wet body, and ran out of the house, grabbing only the phone and money for the bus.

Every minute of waiting at the bus stop seemed like an eternity, and even when the bus picked it up, it didn’t get any better - it was traveling at the speed of a turtle. Nora thought she could well outrun him, so she was taken the last stop on her foot, and reached the McNamara family home in ten minutes. The voice that answered her through the intercom seemed tired and unfriendly. And Nora couldn’t judge Mrs. McNamara. She couldn’t argue with her, she couldn’t be angry with her scornful gaze, which the lady gave her at a meeting, very reluctantly letting her into the house. If not for Heather, she probably wouldn’t have been allowed.

Nora slowed slightly in front of the door to her room. Heather’s mother knocked, then looked inside.

“The Sawyer girl has arrived.” She said.

“Oh, let her in!” Answered a weak but excited voice.

Mrs. McNamara looked back at Nora, and hesitated, waved her hand, urging her to follow. Surely she hoped that her daughter would sleep or refuse her.

The room wasn't so light, a little warmer than in other rooms, but there was already enough shine. It was everywhere, expressed in sunny color, shiny accessories and merch, jewelry neatly laid out on a many of drawers. The room wasn't very spacious, the most part of it was occupied by a wide bed, over which there were still hooks for a canopy. Now there were medical equipment and a drip nearby, and on the next of drawers, instead of decorations, lay more and more drugs. Heather was lying on the bed, half covered with a blanket, and this time she didn't have a turban on her head. She folded her hands on her stomach, and cautiously looked at the guest, apparently expecting her reaction to such a view. It didn’t bother Nora, but it scared. Aunt looked like a fragile child, who was taken from the street and now tried to fatten. Those days during which Nora didn't see her and rarely remembered her clearly reflected on her health. She thought not so much time has passed.

“I know.” Heather looked away. "Lousy, huh?"

“Honey!..” Her mother said right away.

“You're still the prettiest, Heather.” Nora sat next to her, trying to smile warmly and not cry.

“I am far from the Madonna.” And now the aunt smiled, holding her hand. "Mom, can you go out? I'll be fine. We just need to talk."

Mrs. McNamara left, but every step was difficult for her to do.

“It has never been so difficult with parents.” Heather sighed. “But they are just very worried about me.”

No wonder. Nora felt terrified at the thought of what the older McNamara might feel who seemed to outlive their daughter. She lost her mother, so she knew the pain of loss, but she should live further, and these old people would just have to live out, remembering that their daughter hadn't seen anything good in her short life. Heathers bullied her, then one of them, being almost her only friend, died, her boyfriend died, then another friend left the state, as soon as they managed to become friends. And then Heather never had a husband and children, and she spent her last years suffering from cancer.

“JD is also worried about you.” McNamara apparently misunderstood her wistful expression. “He knows little of you, just like we do, but he... he loves you.”

Nora knew this, although she didn't want to admit, she didn't want to think about it. The question was, could she love her father after learning about him? He had one last chance, so fragile. Nora made it clear that she wanted to believe him, but... maybe she lied. She feeling difficult and couldn't trust him. She couldn't trust anyone. The only person she trusted was dead. Heather also almost deserved her affection, and was she really supposed to die too?

“What do the doctors say?" Asked Nora, wanting to change the topic and move on to more important things at the moment.

“Nothing good.” Heather frowned. "No one said anything bad to me personally. Well, it seems like the patient should believe, and all that stuff. But I don’t have ear cancer, I hear excellent. And my mother isn't such a good actress as I am. Everything is written on her forehead."

“Maybe you're exaggerating?” Nora smiled. “You really should have more faith in yourself. Heather, you cannot let some kind of cancer defeat yourself, you are... the strongest. You survived Heather Duke, and cancer is even easier to bear."

“Cancer doesn’t at least chat over my ear.” Heather grinned weakly, and Nora thought she could achieve her goal. In the end, it was always so easy to convince someone like her, she only had to put in more effort. “But seriously, I’ve already accepted. No one will live forever. Marilyn Monroe died at my age. And that was her most popular point!"

"Heather, stop it!" Nora raised her tone, squeezing her hand tightly. “You won't die, okay? You will live this damn life to the end, go, I don’t know... to acting classes! You’ll start acting in commercials, then in the weather forecast, and then you will leave Sherwood and you will be in Hollywood by the age of fifty, you will be filming in the next version of King Kong and he will never have a bride more beautiful than you!"

Heather smiled even warmer, she was very flattered.

“That sounds so sweet.” The woman patted her hand. “In fact, you surpassed my mother in planning my future, but your plan sounds nicer.”

Nora was already sniffing, pursing her lips. She burned with determination, but she couldn't hide the despair. Especially from the eyes of a person who know this well.

“Honey, I know it's hard to put up with this...”

“You can't leave! Just not you!" The boiling point was passed, the voice trembled. “Just try to leave me, and I... I...””

“My-my.” Heather sighed. “I can't leave you, Nora. I'll always be with you."

"Don't tell me that, okay?" Sawyer exclaimed. “You will not be with me! Mom was supposed to be with me, and where is she now? I don't see her, I don't feel close. I don’t even see her in my dreams. She left, she was taken from me, and now you are..."

Nora turned away, furiously wiping away the tears treacherously flowing over her face.

“Look at me.” Aunt asked. Nora doesn’t listen, continuing to sniffle. “Eleanor Sawyer, look at me now!”

She spent the last effort on the demand, and, of course, Nora turned. She gave Heather a couple of seconds to recover, and then her aunt asked her to bend over and began to wipe her tears.

“I miss your mother too, I also want her to be around, but the matter is a little different... I put it a little wrong. The dead, they don't remain nearby, they remain inside us."

“In the heart, yeah.” Nora said, a little hoarsely, still not wanting to listen to this nonsense.

“No...” Heather frowned, clutching her hand tightly. "Since you know about Duke, you know about Chandler. Heather Chandler, who was my best friend. Queen of the school, everyone idolized her. She was stronger than flint. Everyone thought so. And then it turned out that she couldn't stand it. She killed herself in such a terrible way, and before that she wrote a long suicide note, and everyone at school saw it. We talked about it, we shared our experiences. Heather wrote about how lonely she is, how badly she lives, that she also has feelings. And it turned out each of us experiences the same thing. Heather helped us understand that each of us has a part of her. Do you understand what I mean?”

Nora looked down. It was JD who killed Chandler, and mom wrote a note, and Fleming inflated all this psychological crap from a dummy for police officers. What McNamara was talking about now didn’t make sense, because all this was built from one big lie. Fiction from fiction.

“Nora, you always have your mother in you. There is even more of her in you than in everyone else.” Heather continued, not waiting an answer from her. “Because it was your mother who raised you all her life, she gave you her mind, her habits, her talents, her beauty... Although you are prefer ruining the last one.” The woman grumbled, drawing a weak hand through her disheveled and barely dried hair. “When I saw you for the first time, it was as if Veronica Sawyer herself had risen from the dead in front of me. And now when I already know you well, you definitely look like her to me. You talk the same, behave the same way, just stand your ground.”

Nora thought that even if Heather believed in a fabrication created by a big lie, it actually sounds right. More meaningful, with something she was talking about before.

“If you’re interested in what your mother would think, you can think and imagine yourself. I'm sure you already thought about it. For example, what would mom say about these shoes and hairstyle, what mom would say about the result of the school test. What would she say now, what do you think?”

“She would say that you, Aunty Heather, very wise.” Nora answered softly.

“Wiser than others see me.” Said McNamara with a touch of boast. “So, remember that you have a piece of me in you. Although we haven’t know each other very long. I hope I managed to be remembered for you at least something important. I hoped it would be a sense of taste.”

“Aunty!” Almost moaned Nora. “You are kind, generous, understanding and patient! There is so much more in you than taste. And you can't leave so early!”

Heather smiled more calmly and meekly.

“I'll tell you a secret.” She said even more quietly. “I could have died even earlier, in my graduation year, shortly after those terrible suicides. I myself wanted to die, because I thought that I didn’t belong here, everyone pointed me to this. And you know who convinced me in different? Veronica. She said that if I were happy every day of my life, I wouldn't be a human being. I’d be a game show host.”

Nora smiled without realizing it. It was very pleasant to hear about mom from strangers, and to recognize her in stories.

“So trials make us human... You are already so adult, Nora. So I’m almost calm for you.” Nora hangs her head, but then a more lively question came up. “You were at the party yesterday, huh? JD told me. Well? What is your first party in Sherwood?”

Sawyer didn’t feel the same enthusiasm. Without particular details, she described that the evening wasn’t very good, and that she hadn’t been there for a long time. She also talked about the ES-girls, from which she had to run away, she also spoke about Isaac, from whom she also escaped. Of course, without calling any names.

Heather listened carefully to her, her face didn’t express anything but thoughtfulness, but then she showed alarm, squeezing the girl's palm.

“I remember how unlucky your mother was at her first party. Then we were not very friends, and I laughed at her with everyone else, she only spoiled the fun and resisted Heather Chandler. And on Monday, Heather was found dead. Losing friends in this way is very difficult. Veronica didn’t make it right away, and we still...” McNamara closed her eyes, calming herself. “Duke and I mocked her. I'm so ashamed, Nora! So ashamed!”

Tears flowed from her eyes. Taking a dry hankie from the nearest bedside table, now young girl wiped her cheeks and gently calmed her.

“She forgave you, aunty.” Nora said. “She never said she was offended by you. You made friends later.”

“Yes, but before that, we shamed her. Dragging her through the mud. And I never thought about it until the moment when the same touched me. Those about whom I think as a friend, in fact, were tyrants, but I didn’t understand. I thought it should be so. You laugh at their jokes, you allow used yourself, and in return you get attention, appreciation. Someone needs you, and you are respected. But it wasn’t respect, only tolerance. Maybe only Heather Chandler could appreciate me. She was very sensitive.”

“_A sensitive **bitch**_.” Nora added, but, of course, not in loud.

“I didn’t take Veronica and Martha seriously, they seemed just as girls playing with children in sandbox.” Continued Heather, who now always had tears in her eyes. “And then I lost the last people I could consider my friends, and I realized that now I can’t rely on anyone until Veronica helped me. I saw that you can live differently. Maybe until the end of the year I wasn’t a favorite of the whole school, but I was really supported. Veronica and I didn’t revenge on each other, as Chandler and Duke did. We didn’t touch anyone, and it became much easier to finish my studies to the end. Although Marta and I knew that Veronica was drawn to more. In fact, she didn’t withdraw from us because of that, now I know.”

Nora smiled bitterly, as did her aunt.

“You're not as stupid as I was in your years.” Breathed McNamara. “And I hope you have a sense for people as your mother has.”

“She contacted JD.” Nora recalled.

“Because she wanted the love which no one but him could give her. No one in Sherwood fit her. She was too human, too smart and demanding for our boys. Yes, he was out of his mind, but he loved her if he returned here. He was worth her love if he immediately accepted you as a daughter. Until the end I was looking for the same man who would be faithful to me, no matter what. And don’t care what kind of issues he has... What were we talking about?”

“My mother understood people.” Nora reminded her with some irony.

“Oh yeah. Maybe she was a little late with conclusions, but at that time everything was going on a bit messy. It’s better to pass by the end of the year being nobody than to allow yourself to be wiped off, dear. Don’t take on too much, don’t reach for the sun. It killed Chandler, it sobered Veronica. Even Duke settled down for a while, although only the grave would calm her. It’s nothing, we’ll meet someday, her and I.”

“Heather.” Nora began timidly. “Actually, I already got along with someone. Edith Streep and her friends offered me their help in return for all sorts of small services. They seem to be running Westerburg right now. And sometimes I get the feeling that I’m walking in my mother’s footsteps, and get into the same thing where she was.”

“If you seriously believe that it can’t lead to anything good, then you really should refuse.” McNamara frowned. “Being an elite is a huge burden not everyone can handle. Better to give up now before it’s too late. Sawyers have always had a difficult relationship with school authorities, and Deans!” Heather let out a weak but significant laugh. “Think, baby, can you hold out this year without having quarreled and fought with anyone.”

No. There was nothing to think about. She was itched at the thought of Isaac, and just wanted to spit in Emily Slopper’s face. The short time passed since the day she started going to school. There was more than six months ahead side by side with them. She was sick just thinking about it.

“Thank you, Heather.” Nora sighed. “I don’t even know what I would do without you. So you better stay here.”

McNamara sighed and settled in bed. Her wrinkles on her pale, unpainted face became more visible, the pain left a big mark on her beauty.

“I'm really tired of living like that, really.” She said. “I would like to become healthy, but no longer possible. Nothing helps. You see yourself, although you don’t want to believe, silly.”

“Aunt!” Nora raised her tone again.

“Imagine that I'm leaving somewhere far away, where I will live happily and drink cocktails with Madonna. I want to be in a wig, I already told my mother, and I want everyone to be in yellow, but we agreed that everyone had just wearing a yellow element in the outfit or a yellow accessory...”

“Heather!..”

“And yellow flowers. But not tulips. I hate it.”

It was amazing how she managed to continue to chatting at such an exhausted form.

“Heather, stop it!” Nora managed to stop her because she spoke louder. “Stop these talks!”

“When can we talk about it?” McNamara sighed, and immediately coughed, but with a gesture refused a glass of water. “Wait until I become so weak that I will not be able to? Or when I am gone and we can no longer talk?”

Nora fell silent, looking at her in shock, and then gripped the woman's hand tightly and continued to listen silently. Fuck it, let her speak. Let her bury herself alive if it makes her feel better. Then, when she recovers, Nora will remember that.

“Drink vanilla milkshake for me.” Heather smiled. “I terribly want at least one glass, but now I'm already twisting it from lactose. And be sure to eat a big bucket of fried potatoes at McDonald's. It’s for you and your shape. And a tease hair would suit you. Ask Martha, she will do you the way I taught her back in school. You should have magnificent waves, but not this misunderstanding. And stop clutching in hoodies and jackets. You have a blouse, I know. I'll give you all my blouses from school years. Sell those that are out of fashion and buy yourself another blouse with a thin black bow...”

She kept talking and talking, but ran out of steam after five minutes, weakening faster and faster.

“Heather.” Nora stopped her. “I’ll go. I know you haven’t finished yet, but then come up with the whole list, and then when I come again, you’ll read it all to me, okay?”

She kissed McNamara's forehead, and she smiled softly, almost falling asleep.

“I will wait, Nora.” She whispered. “Come on Monday after class.”

“Agreed.” Sawyer grinned. “See you.”

When Heather's warm, thin palm fell out of her hand, it immediately became so empty and cold. The whole body was tensed by a strange feeling. Although, maybe, just the muscles were numb from a long sitting with a hunched back. Nora warmly said goodbye to the elders of McNamara, and left their house in a good kind of mood. Not great, but normal. However, longing began to crush with every minute. Soon, fear returned hopeless, sadness and the very despair that brought her to tears.

Now it wasn’t matter, how much time she spent on the journey, how much money was left and what was waiting for her at home. The sky was shrouded in clouds, and the day became a gray, bordering on black, which threatened to absorb in itself everything that remained of Nora's endurance.

She quietly went home and immediately sat on the sofa in the living room, peering at some TV commercial. She wanted a little distraction. Wanted to cheer up, make sure that everything isn’t so bad. Heather loves to be dramatic. A cold mind said it was useless to comfort yourself. She saw an aunt. She saw her dying away from the slightest effort. And after all, she didn’t even want to hold on to life. She was tired.

For the first time, Nora thought she was acting beastly, forcing aunt to live on and suffer.

“How is Heather?” Asked JD, going down from the bathroom.

“Bad.” Nora answered honestly, although she could have spoken a swear word. “She has already chosen a wig in which she will lie in a coffin.”

“Isn’t it her usual mood?”

Nora looked at him with a displeased look, but very soon turned away, realizing that she had no strength even to be angry with him. She lowered her head and stared at the toes of her boots.

“McNamara likes to be dramatic.” Father told her own words, crouching beside her. “Her parents have enough money for medicine.”

“It doesn’t help.” Nora remembered the names of some pills and ampoules on the nightstands in her aunt’s room. She remembered what kind of medicine she saw in a drip. From the TV shows about the hospital, she knew it was a powerful painkiller. “She has constant pain. She doesn’t get out of bed. She cannot speak long and loudly, although, believe me, she is trying. Looks fifty... This is because of my mom. We went to celebrate a holiday with her, we wanted to bring her a little happiness, but instead we finished off her.”

“Nora, no one knew that would happen. It's stupid to blame yourself.” JD almost snorted with annoyance. “You think it’s your fault? Totally bullshit.”

Nora looked at him, then smelling. She thought it was her, that she managed to stink up the whole house with her hangover, and then she realized that it was a fresh smell. From JD.

“Did you drink?” She asked.

“Yes, Ms. Sensitive Nose, ma’am. I'm leaving for a business trip tomorrow. I want to relax a bit before work.”

Business trip. Another piece of news presented like a trifle fell on her head. Nora looked at her father bewildered for a couple of seconds, and then, still hesitating, asked. “And then I have to get ready? To ride with you?”

“What? No.” JD answered, straightening up. Then he spoke again, sounding awkward. “Unless, of course, if you want to. If you’re not sure that you can handle alone.”

“I can handle it.” Nora nodded. “Don’t worry about me.”

It didn’t seem that he knew how to worry about her properly. Nora thought he was worried, thought that he cares, but in reality... Just to think, where he can get the example of the right care?

“Nothing is known about Bud?” She asked.

“He's at the state.” JD answered right away. “Where is he going? Things were confiscated. There’s not enough money to rent. And his new business partner will not cover him.”

Nora stared at the TV again. They were silent for several seconds, while the talking cat in the advertisement joyfully talked about the new cat food. She put off the question for a long time, but now she decided to ask, still impressed by the conversations with Heather about Veronica, from the memories of mom. Once, Nora shouted to her father in the face that he hadn’t experienced such losses.

“What happened to your mom?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Answered the father.

“Yes.” The daughter answered.

“I was ten. Father blew up the library in Texas, and she went inside just two minutes before the explosion. She waved at me. And then was _boom_.” He showed an explosion with his hands, but the gestures were tense, and JD didn’t raise his eyes to Nora. He seemed lost, but spoke calmly, as if he had to do this hundreds of times. “They thought it was an accident, but I knew for sure that she knew what she doing.”

Nora instantly realized that she was just a swine. Well, after the death of her mother, she could be understood, and JD understood her, he still tolerated her. All this time he didn’t told about what he had to go through. And he had a situation much fucked up. His mother didn’t die, she left him. She found the only way out from Bud Dean, and didn’t give a damn about her son. Bud did a job of growing him, it was worth admitting. He didn’t leave him even after the explosion on the football field. It was sick father love, but at least he didn’t leave him. And Nora thought that, having lived with such a father for most of her life, she too couldn’t have escaped from captivity. In this world, maybe nobody needed her anymore, Nora would be sure that everyone would refuse her.

She realized that she was looking at JD for too long when he awkwardly met her gaze.

“No need to regret. I outgrew it.”

“Okay, just...” Now it was clear why mom loved and felt sorry for him so much. Because there was no one else. Damn it, now Nora couldn't help but feel sorry for him. “I understand mom now.”

Veronica has always loved and accepted her. No matter what.

“She told me,” JD stared blankly at the TV, a grin appeared on his lips, and the ghosts of a bright past shone in his eyes, “she wished to meet me before. She wished my mom had been a little stronger.”

Nora looked at his hand, which hung from the back of the sofa. She wanted to hold his hand tightly for a second, and say that in his life there was still the one who loves him. Said he was still needed.

“I’ll be here, if anything.” She said, instead, because those things that came to her mind she hardly admitted to herself. “I mean, not ‘here’ like ‘here on this couch’, but next to you. Well, you know, I’m a bad daughter, and you don’t really know how to be a father, but you are better than Bud and better than your mother. And I can try too.”

“You don't have to try, Nora.” JD grinned, he looked tired. “You are an ordinary teenager, I understand. You have traumas, I understand that too. But you are already mature and reasonable. I think I'm extremely lucky with you.”

Ordinary teenager, yes. Extremely lucky. No problem.

_“Mom, I... I'm so scared!.. I killed him!”_

Nora turned away and sighed, trying to come to her senses. They obviously had more in common than he imagined.

“I'll go lie down.” She said. “Rest on.”

Nora tried not to rush, but she was clearly in bed faster than she should have. The conversation with the dying Heather frightened her, as did the conversation with her father, but, oddly enough, these conversations at the same time reassured her.


	16. you are saying goodbye

Saying goodbye to father before a business trip was like... nothing special. Maybe awkward. Maybe too usual for a goodbye before some time apart from each other.

JD just took one suitcase, ate breakfast, which Nora had cocked, while she had nothing to do in the morning, left money for expenses for two weeks – for the time he wouldn’t be there. Then they sat on the couch, either trying to take some time before the taxi arrived, or trying to behave probably more kindly to each other while there is such an opportunity.

“What are you going to do these weeks?” asked Nora.

The question was obviously stupid, she was even a little ashamed, but JD answered a few seconds later.

“During non-working hours,” he shrugged, “I can cook for myself. Take some reading. Trying to communicate with people. And you?”

“Studying.” Nora shrugged now. “Soon they give us the test, we must be ready. And, yeah, cooking, reading, watching telly. I put a small one in the attic, it belonged to my grandfather. I need only to put the video player, find some CDs. Maybe we’ll have a movie night with Ram.”

“He didn’t come yesterday.”

“He didn’t.” Nora shook her head.

“Everything is okay at their home?”

“I hope so. You think something good can be there? Unless miracle happened and Martha shoved out this assh- her husband.” Nora quickly corrected herself. Actually, she was already said swear words in his presence, but she was embarrassed just now. Perhaps, she understood now there wasn’t the case for strong expressions.

“I wrote to Marta I’m leaving. She said she would look after you.” said father.

Nora almost gritted her teeth. Why would someone have to look after her?

“It was supposed she’ll live here these weeks. But, if there would be sparkles and pink vases, I swear, I will not allow her to spend with us one more night.” JD muttered.

Nora imagined pink vases here, in any surfaces. It really looked worse than ever. Especially due to the most of furniture was in blue tones.

“I’ll deal with vases, sparkles and all that stuff. Actually, I don’t think that the current Martha is still being carried away on a rainbow unicorn to happy milk lands.” Nora said with slight doubt. “You weren’t at her house. I didn’t see anything wrong there, except her husband.”

JD looked at her. “Is that so?” He asked, also barely doubting. “Ram told me something. How it turned out that you ended up at their house that Thursday. He was ashamed because of involving you, but he’s very grateful to you for what you did, but he didn’t tell me the whole plot. Maybe you will tell?”

Nora felt her throat dry. She sighed and frowned when she suddenly heard the noise of a car outside the windows, and then the driver’s signal. Savior.

“Another time.” she said, barely smiling.

“Certainly.” JD rose, looking awkwardly at her.

Nora was still sit, having no idea how to say goodbye. She hated doing that. People hugged, shook hands, but between her and her father was still a damn barrier, which they were both afraid to cross.

He left for two weeks! Of course, Nora couldn’t miss him much, but she... got used to him or something. She just don’t feeling empty and lonely anymore. And now, for two weeks without a father, she was to be alone, and she couldn’t say goodbye to let him know she would really be waiting for him.

“I...” by the way, why couldn't she just say? “I'll really be waiting, JD. Good luck.”

“And good luck to you.” he answered. It seemed to her that a kind of relief flashed in his eyes. “I’m not saying any goodbyes.”

“So do I.”

“Just see you.”

“Yeah.”

“You can always text.”

“I know.”

“Nora, I'm serious, send a messages. If something happens, I would like to know it from you, not from Martha.”

She grinned, looking at how he couldn’t go out the door, looking seriously at her. It was... maybe sweet? The semblance of a paternal attitude, which was so rare, really warmed the heart.

“Go, JD. It's time to work.” Nora answered with a laugh. “I’ll text to you. I promise.”

He nodded, and for a couple of seconds they looked at each other before father just went out the door. The last look was warm. Not as strange as it was when they took apart for the first time. Then the awkwardness was different - they didn’t know each other at all, and Nora was afraid to remain alone, and he was afraid to leave her, because the trauma was still fresh.

How some time has passed. It seemed like an eternity.

Nora washed the dishes, and then started to do homework. And for the whole day she managed to do everything that her father promised to put in two weeks. Besides the fact that Ram still wasn’t there.

It was early evening, and Nora started cooking. Pasta wasn’t such a difficult dish, she just had to go to the store for a few things. By the time of dinner, almost everything was ready for her. Nora set aside a plate for herself, left the rest on the stove. She didn’t have time to eat half a cup when the phone rang. In the first second, Nora thought Ram was calling, and she breathed a sigh of relief, but then she saw that the call was from Heather M.

“Hi, Heather.” Nora answered with a smile.

“Eleanor, this is her mother.” came a trembling voice. “Heather is... gone.”

***

Martha came when it was already dark. Nora didn’t look at time. She sat on the floor in her room, leaning her back on the bed, and thought. Then she cried a little. And thought again. In the end, she decided it was expecting. Heather asked not to worry, she asked to let her go. But still Nora didn’t succeed, nothing succeeded, and she pounded her fists on the floor and cried again with powerlessness, because she didn’t even want to try.

All that remains of Heather is a few memories, warm and reverent, but nothing more. There were still notes in mom’s diary about how McNamara grew up over the graduation year: from a doggie in the service of the Queen of Bitches to an understanding friend who finally found out what freedom and friendship means. Nora carefully sorted through all the memories, but the latest were especially dear to her. Heather's barely warm hand seemed to have left its mark on her skin, her fingers wiping her tears, too.

Guilt and anger burn her insides. She was annoyed, listened to the last words of her aunt with undisguised impatience, promised her to recall all this... and now what was left?

When Martha began to cry, blaming herself and remembering McNamara with sniffles, Nora was, surprisingly, a little easier. She calmed down herself while she tried to calm Martha, and already began to feel trembling with irritation when she again saw the crocodile tears in her aunt's eyes. As if seeing herself from the side, Nora took the rest of self-control and promised herself not to cry anymore. At least for the sake of Heather, who didn’t want the girl killed herself because of that.

While the Dunnstocks forced themselves to eat her pasta, Nora remembered about father. She text him, said that she was going to the ceremony tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. And then Nora saw what time it was, and stopped waiting for an answer.

“Good pasta.” came from Ram.

“What?” Nora emerged from thoughts, turning to him.

“Good pasta.” he repeated.

“A lot of oregano.” Aunt Martha shook her head, staring at her plate. “I recognize your grandmother's handwriting.”

“Grandma’s recipe.” Nora nodded. “Thanks.”

And it was the calmest conversation of all that had just happened this evening. Then thoughts irreversibly returned to Heather, everything in throat was clenched, and there was no strength to talk about it again, even if it was necessary. The last conversation with McNamara was remembered by Nora a hundred times already. There were so many instructions, which she then didn’t pay attention to, and now carefully tried to remember every word.

“Marta.” she looked into her room, where she offered to Martha to spend the night. “Can you make my hair wavy? Something bouffant? Heather asked you to do that with me when I spoke to her yesterday.”

“Bouffant?” Aunt sent to her a lost look of red eyes. “I haven’t done it for a long time. But I can try. I also heard something about the yellow clothes from her mother.”

Nora also heard, although she didn’t listen. Mrs. McNamara, at the end of her strength, told some rules. It was good that Nora managed to remember at least the place and time.

“Heather said that you need to wear black, but something yellow need to be seen. Accessory, for example...”

Again a quietly cry was heard. Nora came closer, stroking Martha on the back and shoulders.

“You need to sleep.” she said. “Remember, Heather wouldn’t want you to say goodbye like that.”

“Yes, of course...” Martha sobbed. “But I can’t do the other!”

“We have to try.” Nora reminded again, laying her on her bed. “Sleep, Martha.”

Mouth couldn’t let her to wish a well sleep. Apparently, Martha was tormented by this, she nodded, still wiping her tears. Nora turned off the light, and then left the room and sighed. Ram had just stepped out of the bathroom, about to go to sleep on the sofa in the living room.

“See you tomorrow.” he said quietly, shyly passing by.

He was stronger than them. Stronger than Nora, but he knew Heather longer than she knew. Recently, he didn’t see McNamara very often, so he was... a little easier, or what? And, unlike his mother and friend, it was easier for Ram to accept that Heather didn’t want a much tears in her honor. Learning of this, he immediately became a little calmer.

“See you.” Nora answered. “Do you have something yellow from your clothes?” the young man nodded. “Put on with a black suit. That was Heather's last wish.”

Ram nodded at last, and now Nora was back in her dark attic. Closing the hatch behind her, she again felt the burden of guilt and loneliness, but there was no energy left for tears. Emptiness burned her. Nora lay on a chair under a rug, and for a long time couldn’t sleep. The warm and slightly dusty air of the attic choked her, and her muscles, aching and seemingly tied in a knot, still didn’t want to relax in a harsh chair. The ribs of her hands, beaten on the floor, hurt, and Nora rubbed them without stopping, as if falling into a trance.

From this trance she was brought out by the phone scuffling. Nora took it.

_"I'm sorry."_

_"Are you okay?"_

_“Should I come?”_

JD tried to take care, again. But Nora felt nothing but the annoyance for which she so scolded herself. Of course, father felt sorry for her, not Heather, of course, he couldn’t understand her grief. He didn’t love or value anyone except Veronica. He wanted to destroy them all in his youth. Naturally, he doesn’t care about them. But he really thought about being with her at such a moment. No matter how Nora wanted to feel his support, she realized that it would be foolish to call him back. He went to work, they needed money, but here he would be useless. He didn’t know how to support. He just would still be sitting here, on the other side of the sofa, and trying to talk to her. He would booze from boredom, and she would morally destroy herself for worthlessness and childish behavior. She is already coping without a father. She always managed cope without him.

_"Thanks, no. I'm fine. Stay there."_

Having got no answer in a minute, Nora put down the phone, although not far. Part of her was eager to grab the phone and text that nothing was fine, that she needed him. But, in fact, she did the right thing. JD couldn't go to the funeral. He would have looked out of place there. He was no one to Heather, and, moreover, once he wished her death. On the other hand, Duke would probably have come there, but at least she knew McNamara.

Nora turned to the window, turning her back to the darkness, and looked into the sky, trying to make out the stars behind the night lights. She tried not to think about anything, tried to suppress her tired consciousness, because no matter how hard the last two days stood out, the next two days would be even harder for her. And, oddly, the body surrendered. After some time, Nora fell asleep.

And again she dreamed nothing.

Ram woke her up. The sky behind the window was still dark, the morning was early. Nora woke up without a word, opening her eyes with ease and getting up. She felt nothing, which was strange. As if she took sedatives again, as before cremation of mother. She discovered that she doesn’t want anything, and doesn’t want to communicate with anyone. The first feeling that was revealed among the inner emptiness is bitterness. Also she was trembling with fear of seeing her aunt. Refused. Disgusted with a farewell and funeral. And it would be better if Nora didn’t go deep into herself in search of feelings, it would be better not to open it all.

She again sat on the floor in front of the bed, but now Marta was sitting behind her, which made it easier to do her hair while sitting. She really didn’t do hairstyles for a long time, and now she remembered her skills slowly, testing new and old ways with Nora. More than an hour passed, Ram was already entering the room, dressed in a suit, and asked if it was suitable. It was. The yellow shirt under the jacket didn’t look so bad, except that the jacket was a little worn and big in the shoulders. But the tie fixes everything. Martha barely smiled at her son, Nora raised an interested look, but no more. A friend didn’t blame. For God's sake, if he had been able to blame her at least for something, he wouldn’t have been Ram!

“That's all.” Martha said, looking around the girl. “Look at yourself in the mirror. Gods, you’re just like Veronica.”

And the woman burst into new tears, which she began to hastily wipe.

“I'll go get dressed...” she whined before quickly popping out of the room.

Nora looked at herself in the mirror. Accustomed to the dim light that was already beginning to appear behind the curtains, she could see a pale chiseled face framed by raven wavy strands, not the usual straight or a little curly, like her father's. She really became look even more like a mother, especially in her youngest years, if recall the photographs from the university or the school ones, which Nora hid in the old diary. Only mom always had adult dark eyes, looking piercingly, and here she saw dead greenish whirlpools with some emptiness. Nora was a little scared, and then the glassy look cracked, revealing feelings that she didn’t want to show to anyone. Let there be glass.

Moving away from the mirror, Nora went to the closet. It was time to get dressed. She even opened the curtains, letting a gray cloudy Monday into her room. Just for picking up truly good clothes. Aunt Heather hoped that she gave her a sense of taste.

Of the things that Heather ‘lent’, Nora chose a yellow flannel shirt with silk cuffs on pearl buttons. It was unlikely that it was a real pearl, but it looked very neat and elegant, and McNamara knew that. Nora put on one black sweater, tucking her sleeves into the cuffs of her shirt. There was a black skirt knee-deep, some shapeless, with the same high waist. And because of the nylon black tights, it seemed her already thin legs had become even thinner. But black flats with bows seemed to be suitable. And so, looking in the mirror, Nora absolutely certainly saw not herself, but mother, if not to look closely at her face. Veronica Sawyer in her usual business look, only if all the clothes are made dark blue.

Nora mentally screamed at herself as her legs shook with fear. She thought that her second mother was already burying, and because of it she shouted at herself a swear word, because these were stupid thoughts, too dramatic and compassionate. But in the real world, for book pathos it was necessary to find another time.

Nora went downstairs, where Ram sat on the couch, looking with interest at the morning show on TV.

“You look good.” he said, and then, thinking, he added. “Heather would have liked it.”

“Thank you.” she answered, speaking aloud for the first time in the morning.

“You don't want to have breakfast?” The young man asked. “We left some pasta for you.”

Nora didn’t think about food, so now, remembering about it, she didn’t feel anything. She thought that she could eat, because it was necessary, but then she had to go to ceremony, look at Heather and... Least of all in her life would she like to vomit her breakfast on a dead aunt. Ram, too, could become ill, but there was nothing to be done, he was almost always hungry. Young metabolism and physique. He took a bunch of oregano without any problems, the amount of which Nora had been used to for years in her grandmother’s house, and that’s why she loved family dishes.

A few seconds passed before Nora shook her head. Ram didn’t say a word across again, only squirmed in place, glancing toward the bathroom. Martha had long ceased to sob loudly. Slowly she pulled herself together. She came out of the bathroom two minutes later, with her hair folded, the same thick layer of makeup that Nora could already have expected, would blur before she arrived at the church. And now, less than five seconds passed, tears appeared in her eyes at the sight of Nora.

“Pull yourself together, Martha.” Nora said hastily. “I know. Too much of Veronica.”

Grandma sometimes liked to say so when her adult and stubborn daughter argued and cursed for a long time, speaking her favorite language - literary, mixed with obscene. And so, it has been many years since grandparents died, a month has passed since mom was gone. The bruising wound in the heart hurt terribly, but bleeding much less. Up to this point.

The pink Beetle brought them to the church at half past ten in the morning. The sky didn’t think to lighten, the rain was brewing. Good surroundings for Halloween. Finding a parking spot, Dunnstocks and Sawyer got out of the car and began a leisurely journey to the church. Nora looked at her feet, at the dead grass on the lawn, but not at the people passing by. She wanted and in the same time didn’t want to enter the building. But the legs, wadded, went further. It was necessary to lead Martha's arm, to be in front of the timid and paled Ram. No matter how bad it was, there was a people with her who had worse. Gritting her teeth, Nora went into the hall and led Martha further, to the coffin. Other people already seated in their places.

“Mr. McNamara, Mrs. McNamara,” Sawyer said softly.

Martha was already sniffing and sobbing, Ram uncomfortably cleared his throat and nodded to the adults, and then took over the care of his mother. Mrs. McNamara, suddenly, wrapped her in a polite hug; Mr. McNamara shook her hand unsteadily.

“We are glad to see you Eleanor...” he said.

“Accept my condolences.” the voice trembled. “I am really sorry. I know, I was nobody to her, but I managed to love her, believe me...”

“We believe you.” The lean man hunched a little, his jaw tensed. “Heather also loved you like a daughter. She left something for you. Is your father here?”

“He was at work, he left only yesterday morning.” She replied. “I'm with Martha.”

“Mrs. McNamara, mister...” Dunnstock sobbed.

“Oh, Marta...” The old woman hugged her, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

Her husband, Nora and Ram looked at them with sorrow before turning away and allowing them to bear the silent moment of bitterness.

“Here.” The man pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket and handed it to the girl. “Heather dictated to her mother a whole list just yesterday afternoon to not forget anything. She wanted to tell you everything, but in the evening, when she became ill, she asked the doctors to finish something, and then fell into a coma.”

Nora touched the man's hand, shaking it with regret, but couldn’t say anything, because it hung in her throat. His eyes were wet.

“You can... stop by at any time.” Heather’s father went on even more quietly. “She left you a lot. Read in the letter.”

“Sir,” she finally managed to utter in a breaking tone, “I cannot accept anything.”

“Heather was very persistent. You know as good as we know.” Said Mr. McNamara, and a faint, trembling smile appeared on his lips. “Take it for her memory. We don’t need all of this. Nothing can... bring her back.”

Now he deeply sucked in air, and straightened. Nora nodded respectfully, and looked at the coffin before cautiously approaching it. Heather, as promised, did everything very responsibly. She had a shiny straw wig, curls, so similar to those that adorned her head in her youth, spread over her shoulders. Makeup, undoubtedly very expensive, was beautiful, he adorned her thin face. And the calm expression eased Nora's soul a little. Heather really left easily, got rid of a long pain. Now she really was somewhere on the beach, could raise a glass of champagne for her and smile with that mischievous bright smile without a hint of a face spasm. Nora touched her shoulder, and then raised her eyes to the ceiling.

“God, it’s not that I doubted that you exist, but you yourself understand that there was such a little divine miracle in my life. I’m sure that Heather deserves a place next to you because she has been corrected and all that. It’s because of those who like her there must be hope for Paradise. Please tell her that I love her and will be miss her. Amen... There must be amen? Uh, Amen."

Exhaling, Nora looked at Heather again and kissed her cold cheek. Then she let go. And didn’t even cry. Of course, she couldn’t smile, but a desire appeared. Heather would appreciate it.

With this, Nora sat down in her seat, in the second row on the right, where close friends were sitting, right behind relatives. Martha and Ram sat on the left and the passage on the right. It was a little uncomfortable in front of everyone, but the arriving people so far paid little attention to her. Nora pulled out her phone after hearing the sound of an incoming message.

_"Fleming called, I explained everything to her."_

Oh shit! Nora forgot to warn the principal. She thought about it yesterday, but this thought flashed safely past, like the rest of the worldly concerns. And now the old woman was harassing JD. Nora knew that her father barely tolerates this ‘Pauline-forever-hippie’. Honestly, Nora also barely tolerated her. After reading mom’s records about all these hypocritical assemblies in front of television cameras, how could the principal be loved? She probably became the principal only because the public knew her as a fighter against teenage suicides.

_“I completely forgot about her. Thanks"._

Thinking, Nora added:

_"How's your work?"_

_"I just arrived at the demolition field, we are considering where to install the packages of explosives."_

_"How are you?"_

Well, thanks for not asking "how is the funeral?"

_"I'm better"._

Then Nora heard a louder voice, which, thanks to the acoustics, spread well throughout the room. Looking up, Nora noticed _HER_. Black clothes, yellow tights, but from all the others it was betrayed by a burgundy belt on a jacket and a red scrunchy on red curly hair. And also a voice. So clean and confident, pouring over ears.

“Heather!..” Continued Mrs. McNamara’s wailing. “Oh, she would be so glad to see you!.. I am sure she was miss your friendship.”

Nora's jaw clenched. And then her fists cracked as behind Duke showed the same reddish crown. Her stepson, of course, was here too. Of the yellow, there was only a tie, everything else shone with a black sheen, especially a silk shirt that could be seen. Damn dudes. Why Isaac didn’t take the surname of the stepmother?

Then, while Heather Duke was approaching the coffin, Nora felt the urge to jump in and rush in front of her. The woman who used Heather M., who mocked her at the worst moment of her life, who spat on her and forgot all friendships between them, was now standing over her and whispering something. Witch!

“Nora?” Martha ask a question.

Nora realized that she was standing on her feet, clinging to the back of the bench in front of her.

“Where are you going?” Dunnstock asked in a whisper, wiping the rest of her makeup. She also prompted an answer.

“I want to wash my face. It’s stuffy in here.” Nora shot a last look towards Duke. And then she realized that Isaac noticed her. He didn’t take his eyes off her, especially when he noticed a barely contained anger directed at their family.

Sawyer slipped out of the row and headed for the font at the exit. She really washed herself with holy water, and then took a breath, without turning around. She didn’t want to see _this woman_. However, speak of the devil.

“Greetings.” Came a voice above the ear.

Nora looked up. Heather Duke took off her black glasses, showing a sympathetic look of those same green eyes, but her eyes were brighter. Like the emerald outfits she wore in the past.

“Greetings.” Nora breathed, and then she noticed Isaac standing next to his stepmother. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He also greeted, and, surprisingly, without previous enthusiasm. And it wasn’t a bad case for a meeting, no. Judging by his voice, he... was offended.

Little fuck!

“You are Nora, I know you. Isaac told a lot about you.” Heather held out her hand for a handshake. “My name is Heather Duke.”

“I know you too.” Nora shook her hand, clutching tightly, but then pulling herself back. Breaking someone’s wrist in church service would be riding bad manners. “You are my mother’s school friend. But she didn’t tell me much about you. Heather McNamara told more.”

“Ah, Heather!” Sighed Duke. “Die in the prime of life - it's sad to hear about this. She showed such hopes, and then this disease took her in less than two years. A true tragedy!”

Nora was silent, because only taunts were on her mind. In fact, she respected adults, and also always been warned, as her mother taught, but when an adult met, who couldn’t be respected, JD’s genes woke up.

“By the way, I was very sorry to hear about Veronica. Accept my condolences.” Said Duke, smiling.

“Thank you very much!” Two could play this game. “Mom would be very pleased to hear.”

“How is your father?” Heather asked. “It's probably hard to bear such litigation.”

“He's doing well.” Nora answered. “He went to work, but wanted to return for the sake of such an event.”

“They were a very good couple with your mother. So stormy.” Heather smiled affectionately.

“Explosive.” The inner voice prompted. Nora ordered her voice to shut up.

“Mom loved him all her life.” She nodded, almost gritting her teeth. “And he loves her.”

“All this time. Truly a tragedy.” Duke shook her head, putting her hand to her heart. “Give my condolences to him. We are always with you.”

“Thank you for your concern. You are beautiful.” Nora also shook her head, breathing in response. “Now excuse me, I need to go back to Martha.”

“Yes, child, of course.” Heather touched her hand. “I was pleased to meet the daughter of the famous Veronica Sawyer.”

“And I was pleased to meet you, although I haven’t heard much about you.” Sarcasm nevertheless showed its sharp teeth. “The prayer is about to begin.”

“Yes.” Heather nodded. “See you.”

“Sure.” Nora nodded.

She exchanged a last look with Isaac, nodding restrainedly to him, too, before hastily moving away from the font and taking her place. Oddly enough, the fever ceased. The hatred felt was cold because Nora often breathed there, by the font, where the air was a little cooler. Cold filled her all the way to the ends of her hair. There is no place for ardent people in diplomacy, as mother, a professional lawyer, said.

“Heather McNamara was a bright woman.” The priest began. “There is no person who could say bad things about her, like she never said bad things about people, following God's covenants...”

Nora was poorly versed in God's covenants, to be honest. But she knew for sure that Heather wasn’t such an innocent girl. She had sins, like every person, and McNamara didn’t worry about atonement. She was worried about the humanity that God hadn’t helped her to find, but Veronica Sawyer. And the people around her weren’t so kind to her. Of course, convicting a priest as a liar was just crazy. Nora couldn’t even think about it, otherwise she would have become a little more blasphemy.

Instead of further listening to the undoubtedly beautiful speech, she took out a letter, wanting to remember her aunt not from a fairy tale story, but from her own words.

Of course, the list of things was guidance. What is better to wear, how to eat better (“for your beauty and well-being”), where to go in Sherwood, and, undoubtedly, a slightly long list of those things that Heather decided to give her. Old clothes, shoes, some jewelry that will fit in blue, other little things, and then the graduation album, cassettes with the films that she and Martha watched, the remains of Veronica Sawyer. And at the end there followed a hastily completed message:

_"...don't forget, Ronnie, about what's inside_"

The letter ended, because no one even put an end to this point. Maybe Heather wanted to finish, but she couldn’t, or the mother was waiting for her addition, but she couldn’t. Obviously, Heather was barely within herself. She called her not Nora, but Ronnie – that’s what the closest people called her mother. Apparently, Veronica and her daughter finally mixed in the fading Heather’s consciousness. Tears appeared in eyes, and the paper trembled in hands.

“...Amen!” Finished the priest.

“Amen!” All answered.

“Amen.” Nora whispered.


	17. you are not forgiving

* * *

There were fewer people at the funeral. As usual, only the closest people were allowed there, and even Heather McNamara couldn’t change it. Nora woke up even darker this morning, but now, instead of emptiness, she felt everything. Anger, basically. And, damn it, fate decided to laugh at her, because it was Heather Duke who was able to change at least something. Heather was the only survivor, her hands wasn’t tied anymore. Heather, who was mentioned as alive and well, and apparently she didn’t hide her glee about it, barely hiding it under the guise of sympathy. Again, along with her was the stepson, who stood behind her like a bodyguard, a silent figure (an image that Nora could hardly get used to). Nora tried hard not to think about this cold-blooded bastard, which was no different from the other guys. She wondered if another new student had appeared in Westerburg, would he have told fairy tales about eagles and carrion to her to drag her into his bed?

The roses that were thrown onto the coffin were light yellow. Nora threw it very neatly and elegantly, the petals barely swaying in the wind. November promised to be cold, so she shivered from the wind, standing on the edge of the grave.

And then there were whispers. “Television, cameras”.

“Oh, reporters!” Pauline Fleming loudly noticed the very first, to whose annoying presence Nora had already managed to get used to.

Now she immediately got angry. She recalled the old records of how the current principal liked to draw public attention to her experiments on children. Now what? Before she could take a step towards Fleming, suddenly instead of her, Duke hastened at a measured pace, and her stepson was here, closer to the older McNamaras, who nodded to him with understanding and readiness.

“We are grateful for the opportunity to perpetuate our lovely Heather, dear.” Her mother said quietly. “Thanks to your father...”

Lord merciful, the world has gone mad! Nora sighed and, putting her hand to her forehead, watched in shame as Duke greeted the cameraman and kissed the journalist who had arrived.

The priest was about to start a farewell prayer, but suddenly the journalist with Duke stopped all this and began arranging people at the grave, and after all the older MсNamara didn’t resist, they helped find a more photogenic shot. Nora understood that they wanted to imitate their daughter, she herself wanted to arrange a farewell tour from the funeral, but, apparently, grief really hurt their mind.

The cameraman busily moved people over their shoulders, and so Martha was in the back rows, and Nora was pushed forward to Isaac. She stumbled, and the unplanned first clod of earth flew into the grave. Mackenzie's hand gripped her forearm.

“Careful.” He hissed.

“Sorry for spoiling the reality show for you.” Nora hissed in response, looking at Duke angrily. “Your stepmother is still the same. Not wasting time.”

She pulled her hand out of the grip, and he, again, resentfully turned away. For that she wanted to give him and his mommy good punch in the faces. Damn it, what this day has become! Nora cautiously retreated to the back rows, where she stood next to Martha, deciding to keep herself in control until the end of the funeral for the sake of Miss Dunnstock and for the blessed memory of McNamara. After the priest, Mr. McNamara gave a short speech, and now they began to dig. People quickly said goodbye and parted. Nora stood longer than she wanted, because now everything was finally over. Heather’s face will never be seen, and her soft voice will never be heard. A cool wind came up, but she and Martha still couldn’t leave, standing in front of a fresh heap of earth. A couple of times, Sawyer also glanced toward the van with the television camera - the journalist also read her little touching report, questioned the ‘closest friend of the deceased’ - of course, it was Duke, and then they started to pack up.

“Nora.” Mr. McNamara’s voice distracted her from the gazing with a red-headed Mackenzie. “We thought you could pick up Heather's stuff right now. Are you with the car?”

“Yes.” Martha answered for her. “Of course, Mr. McNamara. Anything you want.”

Okay, it wasn't all over yet. Heather's parents talked a little with the gravestone, then an elderly woman, heartbroken, promised her daughter to plant yellow roses here, and even the cold air couldn’t help calm down.

“We'll wait in the car.” Nora said softly.

She and Martha were in the parking lot, the entrance to the territory of the city hospital was visible on the horizon, which was ironic and even a bit cynical - the patients’ windows looked onto the picturesque Sherwood thickets and a meadow of gravestones. It is clear why there were so few visitors - no one would like to be sick in such a ward. And for the same reason, Heather remained at home until the very end.

“Tomorrow to school.” Said Martha, who had calm but a hoarse tone. “You definitely want to go to class?”

“Exactly. I'm fine.” Nora assured.

Mourning, which still captured her mood from time to time, was no reason to postpone her studies. Graduation year, almost the end of the first semester. Mom wouldn’t approve. Father will not be around for two weeks, a serious test already is near, and she also had to cut off all sorts of things with the ES-girls. There was no time for weakness, especially when it’s time to face Edith Streep.

“What did Heather leave for you?” Martha asked timidly after a couple of minutes.

“Nothing.” Nora grunted sadly. “Clothing, matching trousers, there’s still something petty, then a graduation album, films that you watched together, and her part of my mother’s ashes.”

“Oh, Heather...” A new wave of tears threatened to break out of the vulnerable aunt.

The last aunt, by the way. In fact, the last woman she could trust in this city. Nora tirelessly reminded herself of this last day. Martha took care of Nora all this month, was there when Heather couldn’t do it. Yes, she annoyed the girl from time to time for her weak character, because of which she not only suffered herself, but also endured Ram’s suffering, but Nora had issues, too. It wasn’t right to turn away from the people because of their demons, she needed to remember this as a Sawyer-Dean.

Nora had long since decided to take care of Martha, no matter what. Last night, she merely reminded herself of her decision.

“Stop it, aunt.” She said almost affectionately, stroking her shoulder.

“I have already buried my second best friend in a month!” Martha suddenly uttered, and then silence fell.

Nora looked away, pursed her lips. Everyone knew that it was better not to talk about Veronica’s death with her daughter, even if she fell into a stupor already much less and not for such a long time.

“And I buried my second mother.” She answered quietly, trying not to give a brittle voice, and then persistently squeezed Dunnstock's shoulder. “Please, aunt, don’t do it with yourself, because I don’t wanna to bury the last one.

Martha stared at her in horror, but her tears stopped instantly. Not for long, of course.

“You... you think of me as mother?” She asked.

“Well, of course.”

Nora still barely could call her mother, but Martha truly deserved this title. Sometimes she did run around with her like a hen-hen. Like a sheep with a foundling wolf. And the wolf... uh, she mean, she appreciated Martha for her dedication and care. As for the children, Marta was a diligent parent, although sometimes she couldn’t take care of herself. In some ways, she looked like JD, but he, nevertheless, was a male figure, which Nora wasn’t used to, but she couldn’t have done without the usual female figure in recent weeks.

Martha squeezed her in a tight embrace, cramped and awkward due to the dimensions of the car. Nora barely managed to hug aunt in response, but hugged her sincerely, not opposing this gesture. She even childishly buried with a nose in the base of her neck, and, admittedly, had to blink a couple of tears. Martha roared again, but now she was happy, and she wasn’t embarrassed at all.

“My dear, Nora, I also love you as my daughter! I so dreamed of a daughter!” Continued Martha. “I was so afraid that I would disappoint you, that I would scare you away like your mother, and you are as sincere, as understanding...”

“Well, that's it!” Nora barely managed to pull away. “Praise me again, Martha, and I'll get spoiled.”

“Baby, you just need it! Who else will do it?” Martha again put a handkerchief on both her wet cheeks, and then she sighed calmer.

Nora hoped that life would someday begin to praise her. But, obviously, praising is over. It's been a month already.

After talking for another two minutes, they waited for the elderly McNamara, and they waved into their car and slowly drove to the center. Martha led the car behind, and while Nora looked out the windows, she noticed how a black car was moving off at the other end of the parking lot. The driver who was driving it managed to close the windows, but it was impossible not to recognize the red hair. Duke, too, was here to a victorious end, she must be. And, it seems, for once, she didn’t tremble. A black car also drove them to the center, turned a couple of times in the same direction, but before entering the street where Heather M. lived, their paths diverged.

Nora, as if she didn’t want to jump out of the cramped car, where her joints ached due to driving in an uncomfortable position, now she lost all mood to pick up the things.

The rooms of the McNamara mansion were unusually cold, and even a little dusty, because, obviously, the owners were now far from being clean. Nora had already prepared to roll up her sleeves and search the attic for her aunt's jewelry, but Mr. McNamara led her straight into the room.

“We gathered everything in advance so as not to wander around the house or waste time.” His voice sounded quiet and distant.

They were just looking for something to keep their hands busy. Distracted as they could, and now they had nothing left. The funeral was over, all kinds of gatherings were held, and now there was nobody left to take care of. Mrs. McNamara went straight down the corridor to her room. Nora again felt just a stone lump in her throat.

Heather's room was unusually dark. Medicines still made the nightstands, and the dropper stand also remained here, but the mirror was hung up, rare items and jewelry were tidied up. At the completely made-up bed were boxes of ten completely different sizes. One large one would definitely have to be carried in the trunk. Nora was already wondering where put the others, stuffing the Beetle like a chicken for baking. She noticed that apart from everything on the bedside table was a small black vase, and immediately grabbed it, intending to carry it on her own lap, in her hands, not trusting anyone.

While Martha and Mr. McNamara decided which box to take, Nora suddenly wondered where she would pour this piece of dust. Nowhere, obviously. This is a capacious business, for which it was necessary to buy a new, larger vase, and at the same time ask special people to make it, for not spilling a single speck of dust. 

The thought was already shake her hands. She was afraid to open the lid of the vase, and experienced trepidation and horror, from which she managed to break the habit.

Immediately a rational thought came to her.

She wouldn’t spill the ashes and wouldn’t store two vases on her nightstand, because she would simply give one to JD. Then, after cremation, she wasn’t care for herself, and was ready to entrust her life to JD, but mother's ashes - never. And she didn’t care what feelings he felt, knowing that the ashes of the woman whom he still loves were not even kept away from his eyes, but was hidden with his daughter and two women whom he had despised since he was seventeen. Now, having slightly revised views of her father, Nora decided she could entrust part of Veronica to him. And, even if she didn’t fully know and understand JD, she was sure that he would appreciate this mercy and would be grateful to his daughter, and would save the ashes until the end of his days.

Then, taking herself in hand, she put down her vase and helped bring the remaining boxes. All were packed to the top, and inside, almost nothing thundered. Somewhere, as Nora realized, shoes were laid, each pair in their shoe box, somewhere in dense piles, had long been washed and ironed clothes. A new wash wouldn’t make worse, so another day promised to be long. Only in the last small box were the cassettes and the graduation album stacked. Opening this box already in the car, Nora noticed that they managed to cram here a jewelry box and a beautiful black hat with a yellow ribbon tied in a bow. The ribbon, of course, would have found another application, because Nora couldn’t tolerate such a bright color in her clothes, the exception was rare things and special occasions, like the farewell and funeral of an eccentric aunt who wished to see yellow elements in the dresses of mourners.

Farewell with the McNamaras was also hard. Maybe they wouldn’t have to see each other again. If it weren’t for Heather, they wouldn’t want to see Nora, and now they are only messing with her because of love for their daughter, who must have harshly expressed her last will. Martha sympathetically asked if they needed help later on, but Mr. McNamara only shook his head tiredly.

“Heather left after herself not so much. Of the specific people, for Nora and you - the most part of it. The rest is remained for charitable foundations and to us.”

At the same time, he appeared to be even weaker. Nora would have felt sorry for him if she hadn’t been so surprised. Okay, she left much of for Martha, but most of things to her? Such attention was no longer flattered, but simply amazed, and then terrified. Heather apparently was completely lonely. At the same time, she probably dreamed about children. Nora again nearly burst into tears, but managed to resist, because for one morning she had enough. Then it was possible to calm down, no need to giving up now, otherwise she will tortured herself to the death.

Already in the car, when the gates of Heather M.'s house were closed for them forever, and Martha moved the car littered with boxes, Nora asked. “And what did she left to you?”

Martha answered a little awkwardly. “Letter, jewelry and photos from school. Heather constantly said that jewelry can be sold, so I think she didn’t leave them to me for direct use.”

“The cassettes I think were meant for you, too.” Nora said. “And the graduation album for both of us. I don’t know anyone from it except mom, JD, you, McNamara and Duke. Well, and those three poor kids.” No matter how she wanted to emphasize the ‘poor’, Nora was smart enough to pretend to be sincere. She decided to take her mind off, and an occasion prompted itself. “Why did Duke end up at a farewell and a funeral? That mo-… madame.” She growled through gritted teeth. “Just like mom described her. She shouldn't have come.”

Martha only shook her head, her gaze directed exclusively at the road, also expressed disapproval.

“Nora.” She said after a couple of seconds, when the girl, trying to take down her blowing genes, clung to the vase with ash, sniffing with anger. “You can’t hide from Duke anywhere in this place. Her husband owns television communications, and you know his son, Ram told me. He plays in a school team, it seems. In school days, it seemed that Heathers could even sneak into your room without you notice, they could open any locks, they had a way with people, their got a heads on their shoulders and they always had enough money. Heather Duke hasn’t changed since then, only grew up and made some bigger connections. I know, as a newcomer, it’s hard for you to put up with it, but you need to get used to everything connected with Heather in Sherwood, she is everywhere, especially at the funeral of her ex-friend.”

“She hated her.” Nora answered, hardly to hear due to hissing and growling. “She came there to gloat. Martha, only a blind man wouldn’t notice that!”

Martha again frowned silently, because she had nothing to answer to the bitter truth.

“She tried to gloat over me.” Nora suddenly laughed, barely hysterical. “Veronica Sawyer ruined her graduation year! Mom took her power, and before that she had fight with her so many times and always got away with it, and now, ha-ha, of course, you can laugh when all your worthy enemies are dead!”

“Nora!” Marta raised her tone, surprised and just a little scared.

“Tell me I'm wrong!” Nora turned her burning eyes to the window, her lips still twisted with a mockery. “This bitch thinks she can laugh at my mom in my face. Yeah, yeah. She should thanks God that JD didn’t come. He would rip off what was left of her balls.”

“Nora!” Now Martha said absolutely sternly, blushed from such an exquisite speech from a young lady.

“In fact, Duke is just a sheep, like her stupid stepson.” Nora continued calmer. “Now, of course, she relaxed. And then thunder will strike, and she, too, will be like the others she dragged through the mud. For example, some cunning girl will take over her brainless Isaac, and that will be the end of the domineering stepmother. Or the older girl will cling to his father, and Heather can go fuck herself even earlier.”

“Enough!” Martha stopped at the traffic lights, and Nora tightened her grip on the vase, with which she nearly fell down. “Nora, I understand, you are very angry, and I am also very angry with Duke, believe me, not without reason. I know, the last two days have been just awful, but emotions can be thrown out with another way. Ram, for example, takes a long walk. The good of fresh air cannot be underestimated. Or, as Heather was saying, crying is useful too.”

The last time Nora violently cried out for a long time was only after her mother’s death. She managed to cry for Heather in the night when she found out about she was gone, and she had enough of those few attacks with a punching the floor. Now the surge of emotions wasn’t about the grief over McNamara, it was about anger at Duke, and, moreover, Nora wasn’t just angry, she wanted to kill, and crying seemed just a ridiculous way to solve the problem. The walk is still okay, but not alone. Maybe, with Ram, since he is a lover of taking his soul in the fresh air. And Ram probably could have listened to her to the end and correctly understood - as a teenager, at least. Martha, an adherent of the ‘teary’ method, was a poor choice for an angry tirade listener. Nora calmed down, realizing that she was really stupid, saying everything to her.

Dunnstock, regarding quiet silence as a good sign, sighed in relief and continued to lead the Beetle along the narrow streets to the dull street.

Nora quietly helped unload the boxes, and accepted physical work as a good way to busy her hot head for a while. Ram also wanted to help, but Nora gently sent him away, assuring him that she could handle the things. She put a vase of ash in her room, put a jewelry box on a dresser, put a hat, a box of cassettes and an album in the attic, and loaded the rest of the boxes next to her closet. Half of the shoes could be putted into a shoe place in the living room, displacing the poor three pairs of JD's boots and a few pairs of Nora's.

Then she started washing things. To be honest, she needed Martha’s help sometimes. Aunt, thank God, managed to help. Nora asked Ram to connect the VCR to an old attic TV so that her friend wouldn’t feel useless. And then she hoped, as it were, to go to him and talk about a walk.

It was presumptuous to hope that she and Martha would finish the wash before he did his business. It was over about sleep time, and all kinds of outfits hung on any surface that didn’t get wet. The house began to look like a freaking home fair, and Nora, happily turning away from this colorful look, ran away to the same attic, where, fortunately, nothing was hanging. She wanted to at least watch the graduation album for the night, but she just passed out, mentally letting out loud doomed moans when she just had to remember about returning to school.

The morning began with Ram woke her up again. Already dressed and washed, he quickly went downstairs, not closing the hatch behind him. The smell of fried eggs came from below, and Nora almost felt sick. She didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to eat eggs, didn’t want to shake on the bus and sit in the classroom after that.

“Nora!” Martha called when she was already idly walking into her room to find clothes. “You losing your time to have breakfast!”

“I don’t want to eat!” Answered Sawyer.

“Breakfast is the most important part of the day...” the door slammed and the end of the sentence sank somewhere there, on the other side.

Nora found navy blue comfortable clothing, and covered herself with a shapeless knitted cardigan, and then she draped a black coat. The hair from yesterday was look okay enough.

And right, she had to eat. Granola, it seems. If Mom were here, she would have made her swallow it even raw, but sleepy Nora was too wild and stupid to obey anyone else but herself. As a result, on her way to school she dozed and viciously sniffed in a hungry tone. Saying goodbye to Martha and Ram, Nora slowly walked from the Beetle to the entrance. The November morning hours were even colder, so, thinking about what was the most important - her hatred of Westerburg or the chance of getting ill, Nora made a difficult decision to enter the building quickly. Lord, where does it get so much drama in the morning?

The school was filled with a teens, lazy bustle stayed in the corridors. Right before the lesson, Nora realized that one of the necessary textbooks remained at home, then one of the players, whose face seemed familiar, slipped by and slammed her locker right in front of her nose. He had almost hit her fingers, and an noise had also dissipated in her ears from a sharp clang. The laughter of the arrogant guys was left behind.

She felt sick.

There was only a notebook in the class with her, for which the teacher remarked when he noticed a stupid loss after twenty minutes of the lesson. In general, the morning was getting her with nasty little things, over and over giving something new. Nora wrote one test more tolerably, and didn’t even count a pencil that broke at the wrong time as a nasty little thing. But, apparently, she missed something, for which she received not “A”, but “B”, and this also get the embers to the flame of her anger.

Before lunch, Nora tried her best to endure this stupid high school, but then several events happened at once, which nevertheless led to the expected explosion.

First, she stuffed a stack of notebooks into a locker, and everything fell out of it. Passers-by looked at her, and Nora, almost muttering curses aloud, collected textbooks from under their feet. Because of this, she was late to the dining room, had to sit at a table in the corner, next to sleeping Harry Edwards - one of her classmates, who was famous for loud snoring in the classroom, weak attitude to study and what is happening around at all. Now, while he was sleeping, he wasn’t dangerous in the form of curses with a barely noticeable British accent. The rude Englishman was an outstanding attraction, which, like any other attraction, it was better to look from afar, but Nora had no choice. 

She ate a miserable pudding in which she got bitterness, and then noticed how Edith Streep and her friends began to walk between the tables, and a doomed groan burst from the throat. Weekly fucking poll! Then the whole dining room witnessed a small quarrel, when a guy who usually raised funds for all sorts of nonsense, dared to ask Edith about a date in exchange for a signature on some form. And of course, he didn’t answer the poll when Streep laughed out loud at him and forced him to get out of the dining room. 

Nora, raising her eyebrows, stared back at her smoothie, swallowing the apple juice. Apparently, fundraisers have always been selected from either very naive or bargain. The same guy managed to combine a naive bargain in himself, and then failed. As if he didn’t know Edith Streep!

The case took an even worse turn when, after a minute, the ES-girls quickly went to her desk. “Shit.” Nora muttered barely, with her mouth full. She lost her appetite immediately.

“Hello, Sawyer!” Edith exclaimed, putting her hand on the table next to her tray.

Edwards grumbled beside, while Nora looked from it to the Streep. The perfume of one of the girls was terribly cloying, she felt sick again. Emily, standing behind, gave Edith some kind of thick notebook, Edith immediately placed it in front of Nora.

“Remember our agreement?” She asked. “I need your help. Now.”

Nora sighed. Damn it, no matter how much she wanted to avoid another showdown, she couldn't. She heard the voice of Heather, who weekly asked to break all affairs. Put someone else's signature - drown in this swamp. And then the hell knew if she could ever get out of this shit. Three murders, the loss of a loved one and an unwanted pregnancy are an expensive price to escape. Again, McNamara's sympathetic wrinkled face appeared in her eyes, full of anxiety.

“Sawyer!” Edith exclaimed, tapping the countertop. “Who the hell am I talking to?”

“Sorry, Edith.” Nora looked up at her. “But I’m out. I’m done with a fakes.”

For a second, Streep looked at her as if she had seen a fly in her soup. Emily raised her eyebrows behind her and shook her head. Nora knew this gesture and this facial expression. A storm was brewing. Elena, standing on the right, took a step to the side. Edith's pupils were dilated, filled with some kind of strange aggression. Unnatural. She seemed to take something. Was the school queen's life really that hard?

“Sorry, what?” She suddenly said calmly. “Girls, did I hear something?”

“You did.” Nora answered, rising. She needed to go away, seriously. She had a bad feeling about this. “I'm out, Streep. I don’t know how that guy annoyed you, but I can’t help. You better forget about me, and I'll forget about you, okay?”

That laughter again. Loud, with genuine fun and a share of mockery. Elena bit her finger behind so as not to laugh, but Emily giggled openly, looking at her with a share of sympathy.

“Forget about you?” Edith put her hand to her chest. “What the fuck, Sawyer? Listen, no matter what your problems, it's time to return to the reality!”

“I am not kidding!” Hissed Nora, stepping towards her. People in the dining room looked at them, all of them. They wouldn’t forget, teens didn’t forget such trifles. “Edith, we had nothing to do with you, and we never have. I am done with this, I tell you again.”

“Yeah, back to the path of redemption.” Emily said behind her shoulder. “Have you watch some kind of movies, baby? Hanging out with a bad company, then the death of mom and everything is over? There’s no turning back, did you heard that?”

“Apparently you didn’t heard, Slopper!” Growled Nora. “What a big mouth you are! Do you think since you’re in charge here, you can talk whatever you want?”

Now a hand fell on her chest. Edith pressed, pushed her back to the wall, and whispering a light cigarette smell with an apple flavor in her face. “Pull yourself together, no matter whoever is died there.” She said coldly. “And we'll talk later.”

“There will be no later!” Sawyer snarled, pushing her away. “It’s you who need to pull yourself together and sober up from that rubbish you took. Listen once and for all, I will not take part in this. You can rot me, but it is.”

“Rot you?” Edith smiled. “You know, that would be fun for me. But we are no longer in some 80s movie, you will not get off so simply. You will regret for the rest of your life that you came to Sherwood and started playing your stupid games. It isn’t Jefferson here. This is Westerburg High.”

“I know enough about Westerburg and chicks like you who break people's lives.” Nora answered. “So it’s not me who end up here next to you, Edith, it’s you who end up next to me, so you better fuck off for good.”

Edith was silent for a second, before barely pulling back with a grin.

“If your mom told you about Westerburg, are your knowledge so precious, baby? Because, you know, she dumped from here, running like hell, because she got knocked up from a psycho at seventeen.”

God sees, she didn’t want this. Mom sees, but she also knew that Nora was holding on with all her might.

Well, she has got a couple of good shots, and it wasn’t much time has passed since all her incidents to forget skills.

“Junkie slut!”

They fell to the floor when Edith got punched on the nose, and then Nora weight on her, about to punch in the eye too, but Emily and Elena pulled her in time, and then the others arrived to help. The coach of the football team pulled her into the corridor with difficulty, and then Miss Fleming firmly grabbed her arm.

“Miss Sawyer, who gave you the right to beat people? You’re grounded!”

“She insulted my mother!” Nora snarled, then escaped from the hands of the coach. “What should I do, kiss her ass?”

The principal shuddered and whimpered, and then frowned heavily. “Into my office, now! I'm calling your father!”

“Fine!” Nora turned around, walking ahead of everyone, but then Miss Fleming, not wanting anyone to dare to undermine her authority in such an impudent way, overtook her and followed her office with a light run. Behind them were two teachers — a math teacher and an always harsh literature teacher. The coach, staring, went back to the dining room, where it was, it seemed, very noisy.

Nora fell into a chair opposite the principal’s desk, reading a sign:

_“Ms. Pauline Fleming_

_The principal and guidance counselor_

_of Westerburg High School”_

“Guidance counselor”. Ha-ha-ha! Who accepted her diploma thesis in music therapy or what was the name of this friendly-thing crap for TV cameras? At first, Nora crossed her arms, but the scratched knuckle pretty much ached from contact with a woolen cardigan, so she putted her arms on the armrests. Miss Fleming sat across from her, squinting through her glasses like a blind lizard.

“An insult, a fight, an obscenity.” She said. “How can I tolerate this, Miss Sawyer?”

“Just as you tolerate Miss Streep!” Hissed Nora.

“Miss Streep - head of the school asset, head of the Committee of the Students! She was never seen in fights and never allowed herself to go beyond limits in the presence of any of the teachers!”

“How lucky that Mr. Dollis entered the dining room exactly when I give her what she deserved, but not a minute earlier!” Answered Nora. “Did you hear me? She is poisoning students, she dared to insult my mother! She was your best student eighty-nine, or am I wrong?”

“I certainly feel sorry for Veronica, but there are moral standards, Eleanor...”

“Why can she break it, but I can't?” Nora rushed forward, bending over the table and clutching a dead grip on the armrests. “Maybe it's in our parents? Her mother is a movie star, or what?”

“Mrs. Streep is a respected woman, a member of the local Committee on the Rights of the Child.” Miss Fleming murmured immediately. “By the way, on your rights, too, Miss Sawyer, until you are eighteen!”

“Okay, she owns my rights, but her daughter doesn't. She could intimidate the rest of student in a few years, but this time she rush into the wrong one!”

Nora crossed her arms again, and the dull silence allowed Miss Fleming to seize the initiative.

“No matter who she rush into.” The principal continued in a stern tone. “The punishment remains the same for everyone.”

“But...”

“If you don’t want to spend your Christmas holidays in here, keep your mouth shut!”

Nora fell silent, sniffing furiously, like a bull.

“You stay after classes for two days, and if during these two days you break one more rule, I will be forced to suspend you until your father returns!” Miss Fleming picked up the phone. “Now I would like to contact him.”

“May I call him?” Nora suggested.

“Oh no!” Miss Fleming smiled, expecting the torment of a schoolgirl burning with shame. “To expose teachers as insensitive fools is a favorite youth trend for centuries!”

Nora didn’t look like a shamed schoolgirl. Yes, she would like to tell her father everything by herself, since she promised to tell everything important in the first person, but since Fleming insisted, she could go right ahead! Thinking about the sarcastic offer to remind the number, Sawyer watched the woman messing around with her cell phone, and then put it to her ear.

“Mr. Dean.” She began in the tone that Nora had once dreamed of — demanding and impatient. “Good morning, this is Pauline Fleming, the principal... Oh, you recognize me. Thank you. Sorry to interrupt, but this is a very important matter that can’t wait. Your daughter,” the principal glanced at her displeasedly, “she hit the head of the Committee of Students in the face because of some quarrel, and then expressed obscene language in my presence, and for some time continued to argue with me. It’s required to notify parents in such a case, as you remember. And she…”

Knocking, coach Dollis looked into the office, first glancing at Nora, and then at the boss.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, Miss Fleming, but Miss Streep is in the medical room. The bleeding was barely stopped. Broken nose, we have to send the girl to the hospital.”

Nora almost smiled, experiencing a huge vengeful pleasure.

“As if it couldn’t be worse.” Fleming muttered, and then put the phone back in her ear. “Mr. Dean!... Ah, so you heard. Well, I suppose you agree that your daughter was worth the detention.” A father’s voice was heard, answering with a barely serious tone, something inaudible. But he didn’t scream, didn’t get angry, as Nora was able to hear. “Two days. I would like very much to discuss this incident with you personally, but we can wait for... how much? Ten days! I warned your daughter that these two days will be her last chance, one more time and she will be suspended until your arrival... Oh, I don’t know this, we can only hope! But Mrs. Streep, a member of the Children's Rights Commission, a wonderful woman, we always found a compromise, and I am sure that the conflict can be resolved peacefully.”

Fuck. 

Nora realized just now that she had punched the daughter of a member of the Children's Rights Committee. And if Edith decides to rot her completely, she can go to the police, and custody will take her away from JD, and they both will not be able to get out in front of the local court, where Mrs. Streep, obviously, has much more weight. Maybe leave it? They can leave Sherwood, wander around the schools before graduation, like JD at the time. But they didn’t have much money to travel, custody would have noticed them at the stage of preparation for the move, and a lot of problems would have been provided... And now they already have! In any case, they fucked up. 

Nora had already begun to figure out what she would have to do to resolve the conflict. Of course, Fleming will be forced to apologize, and Edith will demand a public, and Nora will bring them, damn this bitch. Nora learned to sincerely ask for forgiveness back in middle school, during that very teenage period with fights. But then... Edith will ruffle her like a puppet for six months. Like a Rottweiler with a rag doll. And Nora will have to be this rag doll.

Hands and lips almost trembled. She wanted to avoid shit, and ran from it right into the manure. Bravo, Sawyer. Mom even stretched this path, and you managed to speed it up.

“…talk to her?” Miss Fleming stared at her again. “She's still here... Ah. Well, okay. I'm glad we understood each other, Mr. Dean.” She put down the phone and sighed. “Now it’s absolutely clear to see the family resemblance, Miss Sawyer.”

What an old familiar song. Just the motive changed from a question to a statement. “The less we deserve good fortune, the more we hope for it,” said the Roman philosopher Seneca. Nora wisely decided not to quote him in the face of the principal.

“Can I go, Miss Fleming?”

The woman frowned even harder. “Do you have any regrets?”

“Oh, I do.” It was sincerely. Nora regretted that she didn’t have enough time to knock her teeth out. “I'm sorry to let the emotions take hold, Miss Fleming. And I shall try to do better. I’ll do whatever I can. Now can I go? I really wouldn’t want to miss classes.”

“You will apologize to Miss Streep.” The principal said through clenched teeth.

“Needless to say.” Nora answered, nodding again. “Will we go to the medical right now or should I wait for her to return to school?”

“You will apologize tomorrow before class.” Fleming answered, and then held her head. “I absolutely didn’t expect such meanness from you.”

But Nora expected such meanness, both from peers and from adults. As the principal correctly put it, teachers were sometimes insensitive fools.


	18. you are cooling down

Coach Dollis nearly dozed off, sitting at the teacher's desk. It got dark outside the windows; the light in the classroom was a little dull. 

Nora really wanted to go to the library, but they just didn’t let her go to there. She had already done part of her homework so as not to fall asleep in the company of other boobies and now dreamed for the coach to completely asleep so she can sneak through the door, but, something told her, Dollis would be more serious than the old grumbling ladies who guarded the punished in middle school. 

Coach also took all of their phones, so Nora couldn’t contact either her father or Martha. But if JD hasn’t forgotten his wilder days, he knows very well when she’ll be off restriction, and he would call Martha himself and will not spend money on useless calls for daughter.

Actually, Nora didn’t seriously thought to run away, because she no longer wanted to break the rules without a second though. When all the things that can distract her were over, her thoughts returned to the terrible fate that Nora had been considering from the very trip to the principal’s office. 

What awaits her next? What kind of execution Edith was capable of, when someone put such a pressure on her – fix her beautiful face and ripped off an eagle’s wing in front of all school? All day, by the way, the school people rattled about it, but in a whisper, and mainly not nearby Nora. Apparently, they were scared. Nora was jealous of those guys with whom she was sitting there - they don’t give a shit about whole school drama.

Harry Edwards was right there, sleeping at a nearby desk, still mumbling displeased. The girl who was sitting behind was already chewing the second gum - the first was taken by Dollis. The boy on the left scribbled something in a notebook. Sniffling and mooing, champing and squeaking - all these sounds didn’t let her fall asleep, but make the already nervous Nora more angry. There was a boy ahead, who cracked his knuckles every few minutes, but his time was up. Now there were four of them, the most remarkable, and they were waiting for seven o'clock in the evening. Only Dollis had the watch. Nora's sight failed a little, but she saw that the minute hands were somewhere at the sixth or seventh hour. 

After some time, a conversation was heard in the corridor. Not the usual steps of teachers, not the stomp and noise of the cheerleaders, not the shuffling of cleaners with creaking buckets. A familiar voice was recognized from afar, and Nora almost jumped up.

“...Alright, Miss Dunnstock!” Miss Fleming sounded very excited. “You should know that I respect Veronica and Heather very much, and I would never...”

“Miss Sawyer, sit still!” said the awakened coach Dollis.

Nora had to fold her hands on her knees and purse her lips.

“Everyone, sit down straight!” continued the coach. “Hey Edwards!”

“I’m trying to sleep, man…” The young man muttered.

“We can sit at school until nine, man!” Dollis stepped towards him. “Do you want to clean the equipment for football players? Wash their clothes?”

Harry raised his head and, hunched over, sat up, looking viciously in the direction of the warden.

Nora carefully packed her notebooks in a backpack, and then continued to listen and pray so that Martha could bargain. They talked a little with Miss Fleming, and then she looked into the classroom and called for Nora with a gesture. She obediently grabbed the backpack, pulled her cell phone out of the box with the phones, and jumped out of the classroom. Martha, dressed in mourning clothes, although she was relieved to wear pink at home yesterday, sobbed, and the principal also had teary eyes, she wiped her glasses, and then carefully put them on.

“I am letting you go twenty minutes ahead of time, Miss Sawyer,” Nora had no time to express her gratitude, the woman continued, “but that doesn’t mean that the same thing awaits you tomorrow! I mean, the detention remains, and you will sit until seven, no one will let you go earlier!”

“Thank you very much, Miss Fleming.” Nora nodded. “I will never fail. Ask Mr. Dollis, not a single comment! You yourself saw that I wasn’t late for detention, and tomorrow...”

“Better thank your aunt.” The principal nodded at Martha. “She cares so much about you all this time, and you upset her so terribly.”

“Sorry, Martha!” Nora immediately turned to her. “I'm sorry, I let you down like that.”

“Honey.” Martha stopped her, taking her hand. “Let's go to the car. I'm so tired after work.”

“Oh!” Nora immediately took her arm. “I'm sorry, really... You could not take me away, I would get home by myself. Goodbye, Miss Fleming.”

“See you tomorrow, Miss Sawyer.” Fleming grumbled.

Nora and Martha walked out of school, walked past the guard station, and on the threshold Martha has changed - she wiped away her tears and began to walk a little faster.

“JD asked you to call him as soon as we get home.” She said.

Nora sat down in the back seat, sighed with relief and... suddenly, tears appeared into her eyes. She was free, she could call her father, he would help to deal with this situation, but there’s no escape. She failed him, herself and Martha. And now, without any advice, she knew what she had to do – do the doggy style with Edith Streep for six months. And, probably, pay her for plastic surgery, if one is needed. Nora already knew where to get a lawyer in case of a trial: she would call her mother’s office, she had good colleagues, and one of them could help. With any luck, they will take the half price, but it was necessary to prepare mom's stash, and Nora had to prepare for going to the bank. JD will come and they’ll go for the money together...

“Nora?” Martha asked softly, turning to her.

Then she began to cry. Hide tears, wipe them hard and be ashamed of this nervous breakdown. The day turned out to be so lousy, people were pigs, she showed herself to be an idiot, and now it remained only to fake her or Streep suicide.

“Martha, I am really sorry.” Nora answered hoarsely. “Thank you for everything.”

“Baby, you scared me.” Dunnstock answered calmly. “But that's nothing. Bad day, I get it.”

“Oh, ‘bad’ is not the word.” Nora exhaled, and then looked out the window. Walk can not help her now. “Can we drop by somewhere?”

“Yes.” The aunt started the car. “Where to?”

Nora knew only one place in this town, where she could feel calm now.

7-eleven met them with light music and coolness. Martha chose between nuts and the Big Gulp, while Nora took a cola slush. She had to cool down, bring up her sugar levels, freeze her brain, and then talk to her father. Then, when a second cola slush was used, Nora was already standing in the parking lot, waiting for Martha. She decided to bungle some delicious dinner, and at the same time began to chatter with the cashier. The evening was cold, Nora’s throat was sore, so she got into the car, and then picked up the phone, calling her father while she was alone.

“Nora?” He asked immediately. “Are you already at home?”

“No.” She answered. “But I will be soon. Martha and I stopped at 7-eleven.”

“Slushie?”

“Yes.”

“I knew.” JD sighed at the other end of the line. “In fact, as a good father, I have to say we’re screwing up, because that lady Streep, the mother of SubHeather, wanted compensation. Fortunately, we agreed with the father. You have to apologize to that girl.”

“She insulted mom.” Nora sighed. “And somehow it happened.”

“Believe me, I understand. Don't think about how this happened, it’s in the past. Considering my rich experience in business with Heathers, I think apology won’t be end of it?”

“I’m done.” Nora answered, staring through the window. “I wanted to break up with her, but in the end I got into a mess... just like mom. Maybe I should get another detention from Fleming and just wait for you at home all ten days?”

JD sighed again. “Is everything so serious? How big is that Heather-girl on a scale from Chandler to McNamara?”

“She’s Chandler and Duke’s bastard. Improved species… I think she uses something. It makes her wild.”

“I suppose a broken nose sobered her. If it won’t stop bleeding, it must be something vasodilating.”

“I broke her nose.” Nora muttered. “She will break my back for it.”

“If she tries, it’s just right to break her back. Our family has a short conversation with Heathers.”

“JD!” Nora almost choked on a cold drink. “N-no!... We... We quarreled the day before! And I wasn’t so friendly with her so I couldn’t easily enter her house and... Why do I even think about it?”

“_Because you an idiot, my love_.” Mom’s mocking tone suggested in her head.

“Because you want revenge.” Father said calmly. “And there is nothing wrong with that. Think about my offer as a joke, that's all.”

“Bullshit.” Nora growled. “I'm in this shit again... Ugh, I will not get involved in this again! And you won’t, do you hear me?”

“I hear you.” A grin was heard in father's voice. He scoffed again! “Better think about what to do now. I advise you to be invisible. You can’t even raise your hands in the classroom, and even dine in the cafeteria, but in some kind of pantry. I advised Martha how to get you out of detention, like, you’re a difficult kid with a difficult period in your life. Be that moody difficult kid for teachers, agree, nod and don’t talk across. Don’t pay attention to these bastards, in high school no gossip lives longer than a month. The less you arise, the faster they forget about you.”

“Not Edith.”

“Edith, as Fleming told, the head of the Student Committee, so she will have more important problems. The closer the graduation is, the less she care. Okay, in her case, I give two months, and by Christmas she will do something else. After the holidays, there will be some other loser who will screw up harder than you did.”

It became a little easier, because there was some sense in his words. Nora sighed. But, actually, this already unreliable plan could fall apart in the first week. She knew how to be invisible, but never had luck in fight with poisoning. If she couldn’t stand it now, then a month or even two she can’t stand it for sure.

“Okay, we’ll see.” She answered. “But I'm already starting to look for a lawyer. Better start looking for a new home in another city, I think.”

“Now you want to leave.”

“Yes, but Marta and Ram will not. Maybe it’s better to go to home school or finish school as an external student. Six months before the graduation, is that possible?”

“I haven't tried.” JD grinned.

Another joke made Nora frown. Martha opened the door and got into the car.

“Okay, we went home.” Nora said to her father. “See you. And thanks again.”

“Nonsense, it’s just a new fucking Heather.” He said, barely growling. Then it became clear that behind a mocking tone and humor, he tried to hide his anger. “See you, Nora. I feel like this is not your last call this week.”

“Oh, you do!” Nora muttered to herself, but she didn’t say it out loud and dropped the call.

“Already talked?” Martha looked at her through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah.” Sawyer said, raising her empty gaze. “Let's go home.”

At home, Nora agreed to wait for the pie for dinner, and until that time she climbed into the attic again, where she changed clothes and finished the lessons. Ram was sitting downstairs, reading a book that he hadn’t had time to read before. Despite the reading, he answered Nora's call, and came to the attic as quickly as he could. Of course, he knew about his friend’s performance, but he listened to her story as if he knew nothing - with genuine curiosity and anxiety.

“Now, as in the Bible, ‘turn the other cheek’. I’m as much a novice, as an armless man is croquet player.” Nora muttered, ending her story.

“Wow.” Ram said, confused, sitting on the floor and propping up a chair.

In fact, Nora hoped to hear advice from him. He said he wasn’t lucky with friends at his school. Probably, he, as a guy who wasn’t mean and was a bit naive, had to get a lot of teasing. And there he is, alive and hasn’t lost his mind.

“Didn’t this happen to you?” Nora asked. “I just have no idea how to bear it.”

“Complaining to teachers - option for the whiners, but there is less demand from a freshman, I think.” Ram shrugged.

Nora imagined Miss Fleming, who puts her hands on her chest in amazement and then begins: “_Edith Streep, the head of the Student Committee, responsible for organizing events, an exemplary student, was never seen misbehavior, and I didn’t expect such meanness from you!..._ ”

There was no need in complain, but just be closer to the teachers, because with them nearby the ES-girls are unlikely would start bullying. But Nora remembered her mother’s notes how Fleming was powerless when Duke was poisoning McNamara in front of school. And there was Dollis, who by pure chance entered the cafeteria only at the right time. Hell with teachers.

She needed to look for all sorts of exercises in mom’s books. Breathing, auto-suggestion. Relaxing. She could remember how mom calmed her, but she would cry then... She needed ways to relieve stress. Non-aggressive ways.

Nora has serious reason to be at loss - from childhood she wasn’t passive. If she cried, she didn’t stand in the corner, wiping her tears. She didn’t let anyone see it; she immediately ran away and only then began to cry. If there was nowhere to run, she was eager for fight, from despair in childhood, and as she grew older she fought just to prove it was better not bullying her, as well as her closers. Peers were delighted; they loved to trap and anger her, and laughed at attempts to beat offenders up.

All of it ended in middle school. She was thirteen.

Nora, growling, forced herself not to think about it, as usual, and just immediately ‘turned the page’. Yes, it was her crisis, her turning point and other stuff like that. Everything changed then.

If look at it from the other side, what she did carefully, listening her mother, it was a fall - as they call it in ordinary stories. Rapid and fatal, followed difficult return to a normal life, as before. But for Nora, it was a climb, oddly enough. She wasn’t at all proud of the act, but she didn’t blame herself for it. As Mom wrote after Chandler’s murder: “_I still feel bad... But not as bad as I should?”_ At first, Nora thought she perfectly understood Mom at that moment, because she thought the same about her own misconduct. Then she realized all her attempts to become a normal person were pretense, because she was never normal. 

A normal person should feel guilty for a crime; a normal person should scold himself and go crazy because of the blood on his hands that cannot be washed away. And, moreover, a normal person shouldn’t think of it in as a revealing his potential. The thought, “_And am I capable of this?_” should be terrifying, not interesting.

If not for mom, how far would she go in trying to find her limit? The possibilities seemed limitless then, ideas were, sort of like, thought out to the smallest detail. Now, out of this high-spirited age, when puberties drove her crazy, Nora considered herself arrogant and selfish. Mom found the exact solution, forcing her to carefully look at herself from the side and think.

Of course, now she wasn’t such a child. That incident was still considered as a climb for her, because now what she was is what she is - a realist, albeit with mental illness impossible to hide. Now Nora was more careful, she could make informed decisions and think, taking care not only of herself, but also of the people around her. She accepted her imperfection, accepted the past and made conclusions, explored herself carefully, didn’t seek to find out where the limit of possibilities, and she didn’t want to know this. What she has now was enough.

Until mom’s death.

Nora realized that her hands were trembling, and the silence lasted for a minute, at least.

“Teachers is not an option.” She answered thoughtfully.

“Sorry.” Ram sighed. “And you don’t have any good friends there? So didn’t have a time to make friends with anyone?”

“I’ve only made enemies.” Nora admitted with annoyance.

For a long time she didn’t face this alone. Now, there was no one to rely on in this matter - there was no mom who stood up to teachers, Martha was clearly not an authority for them, and JD’s methods of persuading were not good for them now.

All these four years of moral growth, Nora hardly learned to use her ‘familial talents’ because she had abandoned her big plans for ‘potential development’, but now... It was time to turn up the cold calculation.

“I’ll come up with something.” Nora said more calmly and slightly more confidently. “No one died because of this, right?”

“I think you can bear it.” Ram answered. “You are very strong. You are very smart, you told me yourself. To be honest, I think you brutal. In a good way. You already had such difficulties, what is school in compare? If look over, it's just nonsense. I think when we become much more mature, like our parents, we’ll even laugh at what nonsense it was.”

Nora would like to know what problems in adulthood can surpass her teenage bullshit. However, she grinned and put her hand on Ram's shoulder.

“Well, we are far from that.” She said. “Anyway, thank you.”

“Nah, I am always ready to help.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders. “And there is no need to thank me, because I haven’t done anything special yet.”

“Nonsense.” Nora said, grinning wider. “You know yourself what you did. And your mom too. By the way, can you find out what’s with the pie? I'm afraid I'll fall asleep before I wait.”

Smiling, Ram rose and went down from the attic.

Nora immediately lost her grin, but she was no longer so preoccupied. She gained a bit of self-confidence because she had good advice from JD, who managed to go this far - to remain in the shadows to the last. And she also had his cold calm and mother's frisky mind. Turn off emotions, keep the mind safe, stay calm, be a mouse and everything will be fine. It wasn’t so difficult to think out a plan of action, a few minutes would’ve been enough for a frail sketch, and she had all night ahead. She had abilities, and Nora knew that was far from their limit.

She breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed the armrests of the chair harder when her self-confidence became stronger. She needed to not let it and herself become weaken. And she can do that.

“The pie is almost ready, you can go down.” Ram said happily, looking from the hatch.

Nora turned to his voice. “Fine.” She answered with a firm smile.


End file.
